


Just Let me Stay a Little While Longer

by Allyrion



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, Warcraft III, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Bondage, Cunnilingus, F/F, Femslash, Jaina Proudmoore - Freeform, Oral Sex, Smut, Sylvanas Windrunner - Freeform, Tribadism, Tribbing, WarCraft 3, WarCraft III - Freeform, World of Warcraft - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:53:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allyrion/pseuds/Allyrion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylvanas seduces the Archmage of the Kirin Tor, Jaina Proudmoore, sending their lives into a whirlwind of change and conflict.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seduction

“Have her brought to me. Unharmed.”

Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Undercity and Dark Lady of the Forsaken, did not hesitate for long when she heard the news. Having contemplated the situation upon her throne before various Forsaken advisors, the Queen knew this prisoner would be a special one.

It was unfair to call Sylvanas truly undead. When one considered that word they expected cold necromancy; black-eyed Death Knights, shambling skeletons and putrefying abominations. The Dark Ranger was more than all that, for despite her death she had control of her natural body once more. This form was a former High Elf of Quel'Thalas and one of the far-famed Windrunner sisters.

Sylvanas' Elven beauty persevered, her corruption only lending it an exotic and enticing form. A cowled hood shadowed shining red eyes, the ornate breastplate that bore her ample bosom baring a slim, tapered midriff. Despite this, few of her subjects would have cared to judge her beautiful, and few of her enemies had had the opportunity to behold it for long.

The Banshee Queen had led the Forsaken away from the wiles of the Lich King, being among the first to escape her role as a mindless thrall. Now more than ever she prided her independence above all, pursuing her people with a cold and iron will.

As an abomination dragged in the prisoner by chain, preceded by his stench, Sylvanas regarded one who had yet to be similarly cursed but had a clear indomitable will of her own.

Disastrous experiences had hardened the spirit of Jaina Proudmoore in recent times. As if to mark this her hair had gone white, a symbol of her transition from youthful idealism to disenfranchised adulthood. Only a streak of blonde remained to show what had once been.

Jaina had rarely known fortune. Her once true love had turned traitor, becoming the Lich King and been brought to justice at long length. Even her own fanatical father had been killed with her own assistance, her one time desire for peace tested by endless resistance, and finally broken by the destruction of Theramore and the many there she had cared for. All this featured into the life of a persevering young woman, aged before her time by hate and circumstance.

One could hardly say that Sylvanas had been fortunate either. She had fought valiantly in the defense of her people and was struck down in Arthas' bloody rampage through Quel'Thalas. Even the mercy of death had not been granted to her, instead tortured and raised into a Banshee spirit.

Both women were souls who had suffered much in the conflicts and history of Azeroth, but here they were now, together. Perhaps their joint tribulations had formed a curious connection between them, something which made Sylvanas order Jaina now before her, alive and unharmed.

“Leave us. Now.”

Sylvanas' word was law in the Undercity. Her advisors and the abomination left without comment to leave the two alone in the throne room. As they did the Banshee Queen settled back into her seat to study the mage, idly holding the binding chain.

“We meet at last, Jaina. I've heard so much about you.”

“Go to hell.” The young blonde sorceress spat out the words defiantly, heedlessly. “Your pathetic Horde may have won this time, but I'll be damned if I have to linger in your games. Kill me and be done with it.”

The words echoed in Sylvanas' mind. It reminded her of Arthas denying her the quick death she sought, and then her subsequent failed attempt to do the same to him. The recollection lent a pause to proceedings as the Banshee Queen regarded the furious young woman before her.

“If I wanted you dead, you already would be so,” she finally said. “On the contrary, I have quite a bit more respect for you, Archmage.”

Jaina gazed suspiciously at the Banshee Queen. “Then release me, or end this charade now.”

“I quite like you just where you are.” Sylvanas' other hand stroked at the bow propped up against her dark throne. “However, you have been quite a nuisance to the Horde over time. You must be at least taught...a lesson.”

A glimpse of fear entered Jaina's eyes but then the rage quickly returned. “Screw you, bitch.”

Sylvanas only laughed. Her burning red eyes gazed into the blazingly defiant blue ones. Beneath the fierceness Sylvanas could still see the youthful beauty that had caught the eye of a young Crown Prince of Lordaeron.

“I have a problem you can help me with, sorceress. You see, my body is still somewhat...alive, unlike those of most of my subjects. As a result they are woefully ill-equipped to address my needs. I think you can help me with this.”

The Banshee Queen tugged on the chain with sudden brutal strength, sending Jaina staggering forward a few meters.

“Not that I'm giving you a choice in the matter.”

Sylvanas rose as Jaina coughed at the cruel way the chain had dug into her neck. The Dark Ranger undid the clasp of her cloak and cowl and threw them aside, unleashing long locks of blonde-white hair and the two long thin ears of Elvenkind.

“You are going to aid me, whether you like it or not. But this does not have to be unpleasant for you. Believe it or not, I hope you may even find joy in this.”

Jaina could still not reply between her coughs. Her head bowed, she heard the sound of Sylvanas undoing yet another article of her garb. As she looked up, she saw the final stages of the Dark Lady of the Forsaken removing her breastplate with both hands behind her back. Sylvanas met her attention with a seductive grin, then dislodged the garment from her bosom and tossed it to the ground upon her cloak with a muffled sound.

Sylvanas Windrunner was now exposed from the waist up, her bare breasts the same blue colour were large and proud. Visibly erect nipples protruded from dark aereolas in a sight that was mildly unsettling but immensely arousing. Even Jaina felt a faint stirring of her own desire.

“Do you like what you see?” The Banshee Queen asked her captive in husky tones.

“You are a twisted bitch, Sylvanas.”

“I am what I have been made me to be, Jaina,” Sylvanas said. “Just like you, whether you choose to admit it or not. We have more in common than you might expect.”

When Jaina did not reply, Sylvanas shook her head, her breasts jiggling slightly with the movement. “I guess you aren't impressed yet. Maybe if I showed you the whole package...”

“Fuck-”

Sylvanas' hand darted swiftly to the leash, dragging her prisoner forward again. Jaina's words were cut off again, breath once more denied to her. As the captive sorceress coughed and sucked in air, the Banshee Queen unclasped her vambraces, tossing them to the side, then repeated the gesture with her shoulderpads that were marked with skulls. Jaina began to recover and looked up as Sylvanas put one hand on each of her hips, then started to pull down her leggings.

It wasn't far to reveal the thicket of blonde hair between Sylvanas' thighs, a lovely trim that once again gave Jaina a jolt of guilty arousal. The Dark Ranger slid the garment down to her feet slowly, eyes watching Jaina as she lifted her feet one by one to toss it aside.

The Dark Lady of the Forsaken was now completely nude save for her pair of leather boots. Jaina could not help but note the unleashed beauty of the corrupted Elf's body, feeling moisture developing between her legs against her will.

Sylvanas sat back on her throne in as powerful a gesture as before, only this time bereft of clothing. “You are a lovely girl, Jaina. Believe it or not, I do want you to enjoy this as well. If you do this right for me...well...you may find my gratitude rewarding.”

“I don't-”

Sylvanas tugged on the chain for a third time, bringing Jaina forth right onto the Dark Ranger’s nude form. The sorceress’ face pressed against those shapely breasts and met resistance from the hard nipples that centered them. As Jaina reeled and wheezed, Sylvanas grabbed the sorceress' head roughly with both hands, holding the captive blonde's face in front of hers. As her coughing slowly subsided, Jaina could see Sylvanas' face rematerializing before her, now so very close.

Then the Banshee Queen brought their faces together, locking lips with the beautiful Archmage.

Jaina resisted. Her hands manacled together were useless, her body bruised from capture. All she could do was try to seal her lips against Sylvanas' and deny entrance to the other's wickedly probing tongue. For a moment she was successful, but then Jaina was unsure whether she had slackened or the Dark Ranger was simply too strong to be denied. The Banshee Queen's tongue suddenly broke though and Jaina lost herself in the moment until Sylvanas herself elected to break the lengthy kiss.

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” Sylvanas said with a knowing smile, drawing a flush from Jaina.

“Please don't make me do this...” The young sorceress’ voice sounded weaker than ever. “Just let me die...”

“You don't want that, Jaina.” Sylvanas' voice rang with an iron certainty. “I am your only hope out of this place, and I can relate to you as few others can. And I am giving you an opportunity to earn your freedom.”

Sylvanas grasped Jaina's head once more. “This is the price.”

The Banshee Queen forced the blonde features of her captive downwards. Taking care to force Jaina in the cleft between her large breasts, Sylvanas began to spread her legs wide. She took great joy in moving Jaina through her nest of blonde pubic hair, the sight wonderful to behold.

Sylvanas leaned back to better expose her pussy, both hands firmly clamped on the back of her prisoner's head. Then she forced Jaina’s beautiful blonde face against her glistening snatch.

The former Elf's pussy was lovely, even Jaina had to admit that as she was forced forward. Moisture doused the pink folds to signify the Banshee Queen's own immense arousal. Clearly Sylvanas had not done anything of this kind for some time. Jaina's mouth refused to open but she could smell and found it delightfully wicked. She had never been put into this position, to go down on another woman before.

The Banshee Queen moved Jaina's head backwards, revealing the young sorceress’ lower face to be damp but her lips primly closed.

“You obviously weren't listening my dear,” Sylvanas said crossly. “Perhaps I should make it clearer.”

Sylvanas inserted a finger into herself and brought it out glistening. “I want you to lick my pussy, and I don't want you to stop until I cum. Then I will set you free.”

She took the moist digit and pushed it between Jaina's lips.

The taste was not nearly as bad as she had feared, Jaina reflected, shame colouring her cheeks. She could only imagine how the scene would look to outsiders entering the throne room; her kneeling blonde head nestled between the spread thighs of Sylvanas Windrunner.

“Lick me.”

Sylvanas forced Jaina's face forward into herself once more. Against her will, Jaina's tongue darted forward inside of her mouth toward that moist pussy but her lips would not allow egress.

After a time the Banshee Queen pulled Jaina's head back again impatiently, rage in her eyes.

Then she slapped Jaina, hard enough to inflict pain but not any lasting damage. The sudden development shook Jaina's resolve again, but she found herself recovering quickly.

“Don't force me to truly hurt you,” Sylvanas said. “Just...” her voice grew softer, away from the hard iron tones of the Banshee Queen. Jaina was surprised to hear how suddenly vulnerable the Dark Lady of the Forsaken sounded.

Sylvanas breathed one more word, achingly, full of desire.

“Please...”

Softer than before, Sylvanas pushed Jaina's face back against herself. And then, after a moment, the Banshee Queen felt a hot, moist tongue emerge to flick experimentally at her sex.

The sensation of first touch was electric. Sylvanas let out a moan of her repressed lust finally fulfilled. Looking down, the Elf saw the almost heavenly sight of the top of Jaina's head buried between her thighs.

Jaina didn't know what had come over her. This was the enemy, a faction leader of the Horde she hated. But it was also a woman, a beautiful Elf who had been through so much, just like her. All Sylvanas desired was some form of release and Jaina could help, as she had aided so many before and still wanted to.

The idealism and experimentation of her youth was suddenly flooding back to her. As she flicked her tongue into the Banshee Queen again, the taste of Sylvanas grew more and more endearing, causing Jaina to begin to lose herself in the experience.

Sylvanas felt another lashing of tongue, up and down, making her shudder again. She removed one of her hands from the blonde sorceress’ head at last, the other maintaining a gentle pressure to keep it against her womanhood. Her freed hand began to toy with her breasts, toying with her own rigid dark nipples as she studied Jaina’s work below with a burning red stare.

Jaina was inexperienced in her technique but Sylvanas was not one to argue. She had known none of her servants could do this kind of stimulation for her. The Dark Lady reflected on her fortune with the sorceress' capture as she was eaten out, a moan escaping her lips to echo around the chamber.

As new to her situation as she was, Jaina flicked early at the clit, sending a wave of pleasure through Sylvanas. Jaina stopped at the reaction, but the Banshee Queen only moaned at the removal of her tongue.

“No...”

Jaina raised her burning blue eyes to meet the red ones, and then cast them down again to her task. Careful to avoid the sensitive clit again, Jaina continued her new experiments with cunnilingus. Sylvanas urged her on with her hand on the back of her head, encouragingly.

“Yes, right there...ohhhh...yes” she moaned.

Jaina's hands were still shackled to deny the use of her fingers, but her eager young tongue was proving more than enough for the long-deprived Sylvanas. Jaina continued her efforts as she felt the Dark Ranger's grip on her head become looseer, but even so the sorceress’ head remained at work. Sylvanas’ body was covered in a beautiful sheen of sweat now, roiling pleasure spreading outward from her most sensitive area. The Banshee Queen’s moans were getting louder and louder with fewer and fewer breaks between.

“Oh Jaina...” Sylvanas panted moments later, body shuddering in rapture, her legs tightening around the other. “I think...ohhh...right there...ohhh...I'm about to...”

Jaina looked upwards to meet the red eyes, considering for one distant moment to break away and vindictively deprive Sylvanas of her ultimate pleasure. It would be so satisfying to take control of the situation in such a way...but she found herself incapable of such resistance any further.

Instead she leaned in again to lick deeply, torturously up the length of Sylvanas' pussy, capping every stroke with a flick of the clit. Sylvanas looked down at the whitish blonde locks, those intelligent blue eyes and the knowledge of just whose hot, wet tongue was working feverishly inside her.

Then the Banshee Queen came with a wordless, ecstatic shriek of pleasure.

Sylvanas did not know it but her hand tightened, forcing Jaina even more forward into the Dark Lady's spasming core. Jaina at first recoiled at the sensation but continued as best she could. A flood of fluids coated her tongue as she kept eye contact above with those red eyes. The Banshee Queen's body convulsed sharply as Jaina's tongue licked relentlessly, stimulating Sylvanas all the way through her orgasm. The former Elfcontinued to screech, her legs splayed before the young sorceress’ head.

At length Sylvanas collapsed backwards against her throne, panting heavily, still feeling the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. She released Jaina's head at last and closed her eyes to regain her strength. Jaina knew she could try to run in the newfound weakness of her captive, but some part of her knew it would be folly...or wanted to think so.

Eventually, the Banshee Queen's red eyes opened anew to contemplate the kneeling Jaina Proudmoore with mouth glazed in liquid. Sylvanas opened her mouth to say two words she had not said so meaningfully in a long time.

“Thank you.”

Jaina didn't know how to respond. She had just had her first lesbian experience and made another woman cum in the process.

Sylvanas stood. Her body still looked magnificent in its sheen of sweat, bereft of clothing bar only the almost knee-high boots.

“A deal is a deal. I owe you a boon, Jaina. You are free.”

Jaina had not expected such honour from the Queen of the Forsaken. She looked uncertainly up at the former Elf. “Are you serious?”

“Of course.” Sylvanas began to move towards her discarded clothing.

Jaina contemplated as she beheld the Dark Ranger moving away, considering upon If this was some sort of trap. Was Sylvanas truly done with her...and did the Archmage want to be. She too felt the connection that was so wrong and yet so right with this dark other.

“Sylvanas,” Jaina said softly.

The Banshee Queen stopped. “Yes?”

“If you are being truthful...then unchain me.”

Sylvanas did not hesitate. Still nude, she produced the lock key from amidst her discarded clothing and closed the distance between them with lithe Elvish grace. A quick pair of key turns and Jaina was free, rubbing her wrists and neck. Wordlessly Sylvanas began to turn to continue dress herself.

An arm pulled her back. Questioningly, the red eyes met the blue...and saw they were no longer wildly defiant, but sparkling with lust and mischief.

The female Archmage stroked Sylvanas' cheek softly, gently. “I don't know what to...”

Sylvanas laid a silencing finger upon her lips. “Let me show you.”

With a gentle but unyielding strength the Dark Lady pushed the young blonde sorceress back onto her own throne. Sylvanas straddled the other woman, the Dark Ranger descending topassionately meet the lips of the sorceress. Their heights were similar and the angle was such that Sylvanas' exposed breasts pressed into Jaina's own even as their tongues dueled.

The Dark Ranger dug her hands into Jaina's robe, opening button after button deftly. Then she leaned back from the kiss, reluctantly leaving the sorceress' sweet mouth. She opened the garment gently, revealing the pair of perfect breasts beneath, nipples already hard before her eyes. Jaina blushed shyly but Sylvanas was well past such inhibitions by now.

Slowly, Sylvanas descended with a trail of kisses, almost torturously. The sorceress shivered with anticipation, watching the Dark Lady move down her naked form. At length the Banshee Queen reached her goal, sliding past Jaina’s mound of curly blonde hair to the sorceress’ lovely pussy.

Sylvanas was much less inhibited than her newfound lover. One arm gripped the inside of each of the Archmage's thighs, pushing them apart. Jaina was now completely exposed to the Dark Lady of the Forsaken, who contemplated the beautiful sight with a red stare for a long moment, then turned her head upwards to look into Jaina's face with a wicked smile.

“I told you you'd find my gratitude rewarding.”

Then Sylvanas lowered her gaze and pushed her head forward. Jaina felt Sylvanas' tongue push against her nether folds and was unable to restrain an effeminate squeal of pleasure. Looking down, the Archmage saw the former Elf's ears protruding upwards as she ate our her pussy, the Banshee Queen's hair rustling in the movements.

Sylvanas pushed her face forward to better penetrate with her tongue, beholding the extent of Jaina's arousal. A growing amount of liquid coated tongue and face as the Dark Ranger returned the exquisite earlier favor to her human lover.

Jaina threw her own head back in pleasure. The young sorceress was so inexperienced that she felt an almost constant desire to behold the source of her pleasure, at how the beautiful and powerful Banshee Queen was licking lustfully at her pussy. The Archmage's blue eyes travelled down past Sylvanas’ lovely shifting face to the pale blue form of the Banshee Queen's back, and then even further to the other's shapely ass raised temptingly into the air.

Soft sounds emerged from below as Sylvanas began to increase the tempo of her ministrations, the ever pronounced sensations of her efforts setting Jaina ever closer to her climax. The Dark Lady's hands holding Jaina's legs open released to instead stroke at the sorceress' pussy, stimulating Jaina with finger rubs, sucking, and livacious licks at her folds.

“Oh yes...Sylvanas...” Jaina moaned, voice weak and blue eyes unfocused. Her legs began to close around the Elf head between her thighs, pushing the Banshee Queen's head inward. “Sylvanas...I am...oh...SYLVANAS!”

Jaina screamed the name before she it turned shrill as her body convulsed wildly in culmination.

The lack of warning did not bother Sylvanas in the slightest. As Jaina's legs tightened on her head in a vice-like grip, the Banshee Queen dutifully kept licking at the spasming pussy while keeping her fingers active. Her tongue flicked constantly, savouring the taste of every bit of Jaina's fluids that she received. The blonde sorceress convulsed in climax above, stomach and breasts heaving, body flushed. Jaina’s hands flew uncontrollably to her own breasts, her breaths heaving as she rode out her orgasm upon the face of the gorgeous Dark Lady of the Forsaken.

As the sensations finally dwindled Jaina could still feel Sylvanas dutifully at work between her thighs. She unhooked her legs from around the Dark Ranger's head and then gently pushed the blue head away from her now overstimulated pussy. Sylvanas looked unashamedly upward at her, tongue flicking at the liquids around her mouth, the sight a beautifully erotic one.

Jaina was still lying on the Dark Throne, clothing askew, legs open, pussy glistening as the Banshee Queen of the Forsaken rose before her. Words failed them both for once. Sylvanas leaned forward on Jaina's body once again to kiss her, giving the Archmage a faint taste of herself. Then the former Elf stretched her arms around the young sorceress.

“I'm sorry I didn't last longer,” Jaina said softly. “It has been a long time for me too. I...haven't been able to let anyone in...”

“I know the feeling.” Sylvanas stroked at the sorceress' blonde lock.

Jaina could feel Sylvanas' arousal returning as their nude forms settled on each other, blue and peach bodies entwined. Clearly eating out Jaina had been a turn-on for the Banshee Queen. New moisture coated the inside of her blue legs, her dark nipples digging into Jaina's soft skin.

The Archmage turned her head to look at Sylvanas. “I can feel that you aren't done yet. But I think we've done enough...tonguework for one day.”

Sylvanas considered.

“There is something I've always wanted to try.”

“What's that?”

“Lie down and let me show you.”

Sylvanas kissed Jaina and then rose. The sorceress made to follow, and at the Banshee Queen’s instruction laid on her back, the mercifully cold floor cooling her still sweating form. Sylvanas looked down at the blonde sorceress before laying opposite.

“Open your legs Jaina.”

Jaina complied, and Sylvanas hooked her own legs between the female Archmage's, then slid forward along the length of leg. Their legs scissored together as Sylvanas continued, her moist pussy moving forth, to leave a liquid trail along the inside of Jaina’s legs.

Then Sylvanas' womanhood finally met the blonde sorceress’ own with a soft, wet sound. Jaina could feel all sorts of wondrous sensations in that lewd meeting, the sensations even causing her own ravaged form towards renewed arousal.

At first their position provided less enjoyment compared to the previous efforts of hot tongue and deft finger. Over time though, Sylvanas began to move her body back and forth, her sex rubbing furiously against Jaina's, and a rhythm and friction developed. As the Banshee Queen's pussy met her own, Jaina felt pleasure roiling outwards from there to every corner of her body. Putting both hands behind her to brace herself, Jaina pushed back against Sylvanas' thrusts, the impacts growing in both frequency and pleasure.

Sylvanas marveled again at the lovely form of Jaina's naked body as it pushed back against her. In this position they both had an endearing view of the other’s resplendent forms. The blonde Archmage's stomach muscles tensed with the fury of their coupling, her pale face flushed and framed by askew white and blonde locks. Jaina's beautiful blue eyes did not waver from Sylvanas' as she peripherally saw the Banshee Queen's own lush curves, the pale blue breasts jiggling with each shuddering contact.

Both women drank in these glories as they continued, but Sylvanas knew she would be the first to cum. As both women moaned in pleasure against each other, the Dark Ranger increased her pace, thinking again upon her exquisite fortune in lovers. With that enamouring thought, looking down at their linked bodies, Sylvanas pushed against the sorceress one more time and screamed her culmination. Her body shook against Jaina's, and the Archmage could feel the rush of the Banshee Queen's fluids rush into her own pussy where they were joined.

That wondrous sensation was too much for Jaina, her scream more girlish and shrill than her counterpart as her body shook in rapture for a second time. Her own pussy spasmed relentlessly to send a wave of herself right back into Sylvanas Windrunner. As they ground their orgasms against and into the other it only lengthened their climaxes, prolonging the joint screams of pleasure.

Finally, as the sensation dwindled and they felt their liquid dews combining further inside, Sylvanas drew forward to pull Jaina's face into a long kiss.

Eventually they returned to the Dark Throne, clothes forgotten and unwanted. Sylvanas stroked up and down Jaina's lithe female form as they lay together there, reflecting on recent events.

“Well, my dear, that was quite something.”

Jaina looked lovingly at her former captor and newfound lover. “I feel the same. But it seems we should be moving on.”

Sylvanas' eyes flickered sadly at that.

“Be free, Jaina. I made you a promise.”

“You did.” Jaina put her arms on Sylvanas' around her. “But I don't want to leave yet.”

“Just let me stay a little while longer.”

 


	2. Repercussion

Visible below were Jaina Proudmoore and Sylvanas Windrunner laying together upon the Dark Throne. For some this might have been impossible, but the Banshee Queen's was easily big enough for both.

The fact that they were naked was far from the most surprising thing their observer had seen. For he had beheld the extent of their power plays, carnal desires, and sexual fulfillment. The way their moans of pleasure had rent the air echoed in his mind even now.

To many a mortal man the sight was one to foster arousal and excitement. Even to a member of the Forsaken, with all of the drawbacks having a near-undead body had, it still had quite an effect on Athelion Dallbright. How could it not when featuring two such particularly lovely participants?

The two women had only recently completed their final lovemaking, rubbing their womanhoods against each other until they cried out in near mutual orgasm. Their newfound affection had been fierce to see then and now as both lingered in post-orgasmic aftermath.

Athelion had watched them through all of it.

He had long spied upon the Royal Chambers here from afar, beholding firsthand the politics of the court. His father had initially sent him to hone his skills against the best trackers the Forsaken had to offer...and perhaps collect useful tidbits of court gossip as well.

It was almost natural that Athelion had become quite taken with his ruling queen, Sylvanas Windrunner. This other had always been such an authoritative monarch for their kind. She had maintained her power through numerous trials and her combat prowess was legendary, proven recently in suppressing the rebellion of her former majordomo Varimathras. Rumours also persisted that she had even bested Arthas himself, the Lich King's own onetime champion. No one knew for sure of the truth of the last but Sylvanas herself.

To add to her attributes of strength, agility, and cunning, was her almost carefree enchanting beauty. The Dark Ranger was still favoured with the natural good looks of her former Elf kind and well beyond even this high standard.

How could he not have fallen for his Banshee Queen? There were few in Azeroth who could resist such charms as hers. Least of all it seemed the once proud Archmage of the Kirin Tor.

What would he do now though with the knowledge of what he had seen? First of all, he couldn't stay here.

For a moment longer his eyes lingered upon the resting couple with their blue and peach forms, living and...not quite living, intertwined within one another. Then he left without a sound. Sylvanas had almost supernatural senses Athelion knew, but even she couldn’t hear what was not there.

The Deathguards that protected Sylvanas' Royal Court were quite vigilant, at least compared to the mindless Scourge or the lazy human guards of Stormwind. However Athelion had known the ways of the Undercity since he had been a child. He was furthermore well schooled by his famous father in the roguish arts and matters of warcraft. Every successful spying mission had only served to hone his skills further.

Athelion continued his secret way back from the Royal Quarter, slipping soundlessly through dark paths towards the dwelling he and his family called home. He contemplated on what he had to tell his father, truly considering for the first time not telling him.

Everything he had he owed to his sire, the influential Lord Seneschal of the Royal Court. Although Sylvanas had seen her traitorous second Varimathras executed she still had need of a right hand. Rather than see the corrupted majordomo position filled Sylvanas had simply created a new one with the same responsibilities. Veryn Dallbright had served ably in this capacity, defending the Bulwark from the undead of the Plaguelands as well as serving as commander in Hillsbrad and Silverpine Forest against the Alliance.

Athelion was close to his father. Some said that the Forsaken were not capable of love or family but the truth was they remembered their old lives quite well. As a result family life had largely endured through even their new curse of existence. If Athelion told his father though he could not know what would be the consequences.

The moment of decision was close at hand. Their household loomed near, a former inn that was spacious but not necessarily as big as it could have been for such a prestigious official. Athelion would not allow himself to slow, instead moving at the same swift pace and forcing himself to decide.

With the easy precision and grace of a professional rogue, Athelion dove off the roof of a nearby house and smoothly through the open window of his own home.

He had entered back into his own room, the same one as when living as a teenage son.

Athelion continued briskly through to his father's study. There, behind a desk in the grim darkness suffused only by single tallow candle, was the tattered face and the signature Forsaken bright eyes of his father Veryn.

A former high-ranked member of SI:7, Veryn Dallbright had been serving as its representative in the former Capital City when the Undead Scourge had attacked. Teenage Athelion had remembered the chaos that had followed. The human court had reeled in shock at the news their longtime King Terenas was dead and his killer, their own beloved Crown Prince Arthas, had turned to evil.

Veryn had died there fighting and, like so many champions of humanity, returned as a member of the Undead Scourge. Athelion and his mother had suffered the same fate, not in the same type of glamorous last stand but in the almost casual slaughter of the common populace afterward. As mindless thralls the family had endured until Sylvanas had come to the Undercity with fire, steel and her puppet Garithos to free them from the shackles of the Lich King.

Here they were now, not undead, not living, but something in between. Something less, and something more. Father and son.

Forsaken.

"Athelion." His father still had the lank dark hair his son remembered but he was getting old. Age didn't mean much to the Forsaken's lifespan but the effect on limbs and the body was still prevalent. Veryn had once been an excellent rogue but in his advancing age he had turned instead to the politics. His martial legacy continued through his son.

"Father." Athelion looked at him steadily as he stood where he had hundreds of time before to inform of what he had seen. His mind was still in turmoil. If he told his father, what would he do with that knowledge? What would ensue?

The only alternative was to break his covenant with his own father, to lie to his own blood.

"What do you have to tell me, my son?" Veryn looked up from his parchment, his eyes curious at the unnatural hesitation.

Athelion paused a moment longer, deciding for the final time.

Then he spoke.

***

There was no greater sense of fulfillment for either of them.

Sylvanas Windrunner was still aglow with her long-desired release, satisfied by eager awaited double orgasm. Resplendently nude on her Dark Throne, the Banshee Queen of the Forsaken was smiling, an uncommon appearance on those often cold blue features. Her hand snaked upwards to gently stroke the blonde-white head of her lover nestled upon her chest.

Archmage Jaina Proudmoore could still not believe recent events and what she had done. After all her defenses and protestations the Banshee Queen had won her over. She had not thought it likely or even possible, and yet here she was, her head now pillowed by Sylvanas’ more than ample, naked bosom.

Jaina had come as straight-arrow as they could come. Born into nobility and a a blossoming young woman with innate magical talent, there seemed to be no stopping her career. Beyond her natural powers she was also bestowed with a considerable beauty that drew numerous suitors. No less than the Prince of Quel’Thalas Kael'thas Sunstrider and the former Prince of Lordaeron Arthas Menethil, had been drawn to the vibrant, vivacious sorceress. Jaina had been happy at the time to share her life with such strong, powerful men. Even more recently she had even drawn the attention of a creature far more powerful than man…

With all that in mind she had never expected to be with a woman...and particularly not this one...

Yet here they were, laying together on the Dark Throne of the Forsaken.

During the ferocity of their lovemaking and flushes of heat through their bodies, the cold air of the Royal Chambers had seemed like such an inconsequential thing. Now that those glorious moments had passed though reality set in. Jaina gave a little shiver as her body cooled in the unforgiving air. Of course for Sylvanas the conditions meant little. But her lover was a living breathing woman, something Sylvanas enjoyed and counted on.

Who else but such a marvelously vital young woman could have licked her pussy with such enthusiasm, sending the proud Banshee Queen into not one but two shattering orgasms? These recent powerful memories were the true reasons behind Sylvanas’ idle smile.

Settled on the Dark Ranger, her nude form still gleaming, Jaina gave a second shiver through closed eyes as another faint breeze swept over the two. Carefully Sylvanas wrapped one arm around her, gently crushing Jaina's large breasts, while reaching over the throne's side to search for something.

Jaina felt content in that embrace. A feeling of security she had not known since her last encounter with Arthas had befallen her. So much had gone wrong in her life since those idealistic beginnings…

She was cold though. While Sylvanas' arm was surprisingly warm it was not enough for her unclad form. The sorceress smiled to herself ruefully at recalling how the Banshee Queen had proved herself still living in more than a few ways.

Distantly she contemplated leaving the wondrous embrace to collect her clothes before she felt a welcome curtain of warmth fall upon her.

Sylvanas had collected her cloak, one of the first garments discarded during her seduction, and settled it upon Jaina. The garment hid the sorceress from the Banshee Queen’s still hungry red eyes, and Sylvanas felt mild disappointment at being deprived of the sight. Granted she could still feel the young sorceress’ warmth above, and Sylvanas had the fleeting thought of once again plundering her beauty, to spread the blonde's legs anew and eat out Jaina again...

But no, enough of that for now. Sylvanas could feel the weariness of her former captive and newfound lover. The sorceress was already descending towards sleep. Sylvanas did not feel tiredness herself, but she saw the indications in her young lover.

"Rest, Jaina." Sylvanas purred the words on a column of warm breath. "Rest now."

The blonde gave a last little breath and obeyed.

***

Archmage Jaina Proudmoore had almost been afraid to slumber, but there was no stopping the weariness and comforting warmth of both the cloak and Sylvanas herself.

So she slept a dreamless, sound sleep in her lover's arms. Above her protectively was Sylvanas, remaining awake with her glowing red eyes observing. From time to time the Banshee Queen would brush a stray lock of white-blonde hair from Jaina's face and watch the rise and fall of Jaina’s breaths from beneath the purple cloak.

The gaze revealed how Sylvanas was thinking about a great many things. It was clear that Jaina was more than the conduit of release for her built-up tension...but did the sorceress feel the same?

Obviously Jaina was predisposed to her but there were many levels of relationships. All of this had only started mere hours ago, after all. Sylvanas was almost afraid to commit anything further.

The Banshee Queen had always had to be strong and as a result she had almost forgotten what it was to be vulnerable to anyone. No one would follow a feeble monarch, and factions professing loyalty would turn on her at any sign of weakness. This would be particularly true if Sylvanas ever confessed her love and take a living human as consort. It would be chaos.

There was another inescapable fact though; Jaina was dangerously powerful. She was a prominent leader of the Alliance who had sworn to fight the Horde and therefore by extension Sylvanas.

It would have been quite something for Sylvanas to have broken the Archmage's mental defenses and then turned her into a mindless thrall. It would be a symbolic victory to make both the Kirin Tor and the Alliance tremble at the fate that had befallen their former champion.

It was still possible. How much could she truly trust Jaina? As a semi-living being like Sylvanas herself Jaina could truly join in making a new Forsaken world. The thought was tempting, for the young sorceress was now completely helpless before her at last, sleeping.

To deprive Jaina of life would be to take some of what made the sorceress herself though. It had never troubled Sylvanas before to inflict this fate upon others...but could she do the same now to Jaina?

As Sylvanas' thoughts conflicted the hours wiled away uncounted. None of the guards dared to challenge their Queen’s privacy.

Until, as they still lay upon each other in each other’s arms, one sleeping and the other deep in thought, someone finally came to disturb them.

Sylvanas heard the timid knock at the dark wrought doors of the Royal Chambers. The Banshee Queen broke off her thoughts to raise her head at the intrusion, her Elf ears perking up in thin strands to denote her interest.

"What is it?" she called in an authoritative tone.

"Pardons, my Queen," came the voice of one of her Deathguards. "But the Lord Seneschal waits without. He begs an audience."

Sylvanas sighed and looked down at the oblivious Jaina below whose breaths continued to rise and fall gently. "I will receive him later."

"He says it is urgent, milady."

Damn the man. That said he did not often raise urgent audiences often. Veryn Dallbright was a prudent commander and one of her most able subordinates. Sylvanas had found his loyalty to be endearing, relying especially on such after Varimathras' betrayal.

"Very well. Tell him I will receive him when I am prepared."

"I shall tell him so, my Queen."

Jaina was still asleep, and Sylvanas once more observed the sorceress' quiet beauty.

"Jaina." Her hands moved from stroking the white-blonde head to the shoulders to give the other a gentle shake.

The blue eyes blinked open. "Sylvanas." Jaina gave a sleepy, lazy smile. "I was afraid I would awake and not see you."

"Nothing can ever take away what we did together." Sylvanas slowly removed the cloak to expose her to the cold air once more. The effect woke Jaina quickly and she looked questioningly at the Banshee Queen.

"I need you to get clothed and re-don your chains." Sylvanas looked to Jaina apologetically. "My Lord Seneschal begs an urgent audience, and it would look suspect for me to decline."

Jaina paused a moment. The chains in particular troubled her but she had come too far with Sylvanas to refuse. If the Banshee Queen truly wanted her dead, Jaina was sure she would already be. Instead the Dark Lady of the Forsaken had demonstrated very different desires…

"Very well, Sylvanas." She made to rise, but as she did the Banshee Queen met her lips in a tender kiss. It evolved into something more, and it took some time before it finally broke, both women letting out a contented sigh as they parted.

"Thank you." Sylvanas smiled at her and turned to collect her own discarded garments. Both dressed in silence until the Banshee Queen collected the chains and placed them once more on Jaina.

As Sylvanas, clad again as the ruler of the Forsaken, sat upon her Dark Throne as if born to it, Jaina beheld her glory. The former Elf was much more powerful than even Jaina had suspected; she could feel the authority all but radiating from the other.

"The Lord Seneschal may enter." Sylvanas said with a final, thoughtful look to Jaina upon the floor in her chains.

As the dark doors opened, Jaina affected the body language and posture of an exhausted and tortured prisoner. The truth couldn't be more opposite, as Jaina was still buoyed by memories of the night before, loving and being loved in turn by the powerful Banshee Queen herself.

The Lord Seneschal walked in briskly, stoop-shouldered with a shock of lifeless dark hair. His face was sunken but his eyes were bright. Jaina took care not to look at him too closely, instead affecting a sullen, empty stare at the ground. Even without seeing him though there was a putrefying, horrible smell of decay about the former man that made Jaina unconsciously wrinkle her nose.

The sorceress guessed it was not uncommon for the Forsaken to be rotting, and that their sense of smell probably incorporated that. But Sylvanas hadn't had that same rotting scent, instead smelling quite pleasant, especially that moist burrow between-

"My Queen." The Lord Seneschal was flanked by two shambling skeleton guards, each encased in patchwork armour from who-knows-what forgotten conflict. He approached and knelt before his liege, head upraised, while the guards remained to each side.

Sylvanas threw her subordinate and these others a searching glance as the Deathguards closed the doors behind them, sealing them inside. Jaina was suddenly afraid for her but the Banshee Queen did not seem perturbed in the slightest.

"What is so urgent, Veryn?" Sylvanas questioned. "Our meeting was scheduled for later while you are not on campaign."

"I have received news which is most concerning." The Lord Seneschal threw a glance at the seemingly feeble prisoner in chains off to the side of the throne, and Jaina took care not to meet it.

"And what tidings are these, Veryn?" Sylvanas spoke the words idly but kept an edge of iron on them. As if to emphasize this, she stroked her bow propped against the throne, a gesture Jaina remembered from their first, glorious meeting.

"It has to do with the prisoner." Veryn had kept his eyes upon Jaina, and she could almost feel his suspicion. "I think she has been doing more than meets the eye."

"Do you now…" The Dark Lady's blue arm continued stroking almost sensually up and down the bow.

"Archmages are dangerous and cunning foes. I have seen them in the field firsthand and their magics are formidable. This one should be respected even more, for she is the leader of the Kirin Tor itself.”

He paused only a moment before continuing.

“My Queen, I think she is a spy sent here to bewitch us. And..." Veryn paused, then pressed on resolutely. "I think she has succeeding doing so on you."

At the last he leapt forward with surprising speed for so insignificant of a figure. It happened so fast Jaina could not react until a sharp, wicked looking blade was pressed against her throat. She felt a sudden jolt of terror spread through her body.

Sylvanas had moved equally quickly, drawing her bow and pointing it at Veryn. The two skeleton guards, armoured in their bleak, dinted plate, moved threateningly to block the Banshee Queen with ready weapons.

"My Queen, I am sorry," Veryn apologized. "I know it is treason to bare steel on you. But this creature..." He drew Jaina's face roughly upwards and the point of the dagger dug deeper into the soft skin of her throat. "She threatens both you and by extension the realm."

"You have made a dangerous mistake, Veryn." Sylvanas spoke the words ominously with the dark, sinister arrow still pointed at her subordinate.

"I have it that you were seen with this feeble woman," Veryn commented. "Your...proclivities were observed. The Queen I know would never do such a thing, not with someone still stained with the curse of life."

"You do not know me at all," Sylvanas spoke confidently, but evident beneath the authoritative tones was the note of regret. "You have done much for me, Veryn, and could still do so much more. I will give you one last chance in recognition of your leal service. Back away and leave us. Now."

"I have gone too far to believe that," Veryn replied. "And anyone ensorceled would say the same. I cannot trust your words, Sylvanas, but there is one way to be certain...by slaying the prisoner. The Queen I serve would not disapprove of such a measure."

Sylvanas considered the words, studying her Lord Seneschal carefully.

"So be it,” she finally said, nodding her assent.

Jaina felt the sudden emotion of betrayal and her fury grew to sharpen her magical talents, even as the blade tightened at her throat.

Then all hell broke loose at last.

Sylvanas threw the bow aside. The Queen of the Forsaken most of all knew how useless arrows were for stopping those who had already known death. Instead she produced a formidable blade from seemingly nowhere and threw it in a flat, horizontal arc right at Jaina.

The spinning dagger was thrown at such speed that Jaina did not have time to react other than feeling an immense sadness and acceptance of her fate. Then it struck home, causing the weapon at her throat to fall away as she heard a thump behind her.

Jaina's eyes widened with realization and her swirling emotions manifested in the summoning of two water elementals near Sylvanas. Water sprang from nowhere into the shape of two towering waves, instantly moistening the air and unleashing a terrifyingly loud noise.

The two skeletons raised their primitive weapons to strike at Sylvanas from behind. As the Dark Lady spun to confront them the two elementals absorbed the blows and drove with crushing force into both the monstrosities. The skeletons endured for a moment, each trapped inside a bizarre column of standing water. Then the force became too much and they broke apart, pieces of bone and armor dissipating inside the roaring, vertical current.

Jaina watched her creations at work, body flush with excitement at her near death scenario. She knew what lay behind but still looked there to see the body. What caught the eye first was the separated head, one that had been recently so close to her own. Looking at the grisly sight, Jaina saw that the eyes were facing up, now utterly devoid of the unearthly light they had once possessed.

Veryn Dallbright, Lord Seneschal of the Undercity, lay decapitated at his own liege's hand.

For a moment both women stood in silence, then Jaina looked from the corpse to Sylvanas. The Banshee Queen's red eyes met the blue and her face softened. There was a curious look there, a sense of resolution…and more than a little sadness.

"Not quite what I expected," Sylvanas spoke to break the silence. The Banshee Queen turned from Jaina to regard the two water elemental creations still towering over her, a pile of armoured bones at their feet. "These are quite curious and useful creations. I thought you needed your staff to create them, though."

"Most Archmages do," Jaina said glibly. The flood of emotion she was feeling began to subside.

"But not you." Sylvanas favoured the young sorceress with a smile. "Clearly I chose well.”

The Banshee Queen produced a second blade and slashed casually and fatally at the water elementals. Beings of pure water are almost impervious to common steel but Sylvanas' dual blades were far more than that. Imbued with mysterious dark magic, they cleaved through each of the summoned creatures, each howling one last time and dissipating. The hurricane of sound they made vanished with them.

The manacled Jaina remained where she was as she studied the Banshee Queen.

"What now, Sylvanas?" Jaina finally asked, afraid of the answer.

Sylvanas regarded her thoughtfully. "I am not sure," she confessed, voice softening to the tones she reserved for Jaina. "But whatever we do, we will do together."

She strode forth and unchained Jaina again. As Sylvanas drew away with the key, Jaina caught the blue face of the Banshee Queen and kissed her passionately, fearlessly, devotedly.

 


	3. Passion

“Guards. Come in and clean up this mess.”

The reaction to the command of the Banshee Queen was swift. With a noisy creak, the doors of the Royal Chamber opened yet again to admit her Deathguards. None of them spoke any word of the curiousness of the situation, such as the pile of wet bones or even the way their Lord Seneschal lay decapitated on the ground.

Jaina watched the Forsaken clear the aftermath of their brief battle, still affecting her guise as the broken, weakened prisoner. None of the Deathguard had it in them to challenge their own Banshee Queen and study her closer.

Sylvanas had returned to the Dark Throne. One leg was thrown casually over the other, exposing her sensuously thigh high leather boots, but that was the only part of her appearance that gave her any warmth. Her glowing red eyes shone coldly as she studied the Deathguards as they went about their work, and none of them dared to return that stare.

Only one figure in the room had the courage to do so. When Jaina gave her a furtive look, Sylvanas’ features flickered away from its coldness for a brief moment, giving Jaina a small secretive smile somehow full of promise. Jaina flushed at that and cast her eyes down again.

It didn’t take long. Two Deathguards together lifted Veryn Dallbright’s corpse and one more each the pile of wet bones and armour that marked his two former guards.

“Leave us.” Sylvanas’ voice rang, and the Deathguards departed with their burdens, closing the door behind them.

Jaina looked up at the Banshee Queen after waiting a moment further. “Sylvanas, I'm sorry-“

The Dark Lady interrupted the sorceress’ apology. “I am too, Jaina. But I made my own decisions that led to this situation. The fault does not lie with you.”

‘Even so…” Jaina paused. “He was your Seneschal.”

“I shall find another.” Sylvanas said the words casually, her red eyes burning into Jaina’s. “I am more curious as to how he discovered us in here. I will need to be more vigilant.”

“Besides-” Sylvanas gave her a bright smile, a full-fledged version of the secretive one she had given earlier. “You are very special, Jaina. I would do everything I have done again if I had to.”

Jaina flushed at that, but she did not break off her stare this time.

“He would have killed me,” Jaina said with a faint note of shock.

“He would have tried,” Sylvanas countered confidently. “But I never doubted it would be otherwise.”

“You saved my life,” Jaina pressed on. “Not just once now. You could have killed me as a prisoner yourself as an act of war. Or, if your conscience was stronger, simply been a little slower and allow Veryn to cut my throat.”

Sylvanas looked amused at that. “Conscience! Jaina, sometimes you remind me just how young and innocent you are.”

Jaina’s mouth tightened at the mild rebuke but the Banshee Queen’s next words softened the blow. “That’s why I am so fond of you though. You are so different from this cold place where only strength rules.”

“I think there is still a conscience in you, Sylvanas,” Jaina pressed on resolutely. “You may have had to hide it, keep it buried deep…but you are more than a mindless Undead. I see that now, more than anyone.”

There was a silence.

Sylvanas’ eyes continued to glow. “There’s not much hope for me Jaina; but there is some yet for you.”

The Dark Ranger rose to her feet, still quite a sight even for the young sorceress who had recently seen Sylvanas in all of her naked glory.

This had a different appeal all of its own though. The corrupted darker Elvish garments, the cowled hood, the sense of authority that radiated from this Queen of the Forsaken...

“After all, if I had let Veryn kill you,” Sylvanas said in a tone so seductive it almost sent Jaina to shivers. “There would be no one left who could lick my pussy near so well.”

Perhaps there was a bit of something less docile in Jaina, Sylvanas reflected. At her last words Jaina came forward, driving off her knees her hands still manacled. The chain clanked on the ground as the Archmage resolutely approached the Dark Throne and drove her face into Sylvanas’ smirking one, locking lips yet again.

A lot can be conveyed with a kiss, particularly a long one with a pair of mutually desiring participants. Jaina let her recent emotions come to the fore; fury, hopelessness, lust, love and hope. Sylvanas’ features broke as she too fell into the nature of the kiss, conveying her own aching, unfulfilled lust.

Their lips broke apart at last. Jaina was flushed and the Banshee Queen’s own features were warmer than the Archmage had ever seen outside of their private sessions. Quickly, deftly, the Dark Ranger produced the key to the shackles, unchaining Jaina and throwing them unconcernedly onto the floor next to them.

“It appears you have recovered from last night, young sorceress,” Sylvanas said playfully. “But who shall be first?”

“You saved me,” Jaina said, equally coy. “A woman once told me that she would reward service...and in that vein I think it is time I rewarded her in turn.”

Sylvanas smirked at that remembrance of their first turbulent encounter. She began to tug again at her breastplate and various garments but Jaina stopped her. “No,” the Archmage said quietly. “I like you like this.”

“Come now, my dear, this is no way for us to have fun,” Sylvanas said crossly.

“You look fantastic as the Banshee Queen,” Jaina said. “So confident, such a leader...it turns me on, Sylvanas.”

“What a pity,” the Dark Lady of the Forsaken said playfully. “I do so prefer to be naked.”

“Well, I’ll make one small concession.” Jaina looked into those red eyes for a moment, then cast her glance downwards to between Sylvanas’ legs. “Your pants can come off, I want to taste you again. But keep the boots on…I like those.”

“You drive a hard bargain, young sorceress.” Sylvanas favoured her with the same brilliant smile, then tugged her pants down again in a smooth motion, lifting one booted foot and then the other out of the puddle it made on the floor.

Jaina watched with rapt attention as the Banshee Queen exposed herself once again. Despite being cursed by Undeath, Sylvanas had been given the rare gift of returning to her former body and beauty. This was particularly true between the Dark Ranger’s thighs where a familiar nest of curly blonde hair resided.

Of course Jaina now found herself bereft of the other views she vividly recalled of the Banshee Queen, the exposed blue breasts, the lush curves that could not be hidden by the form-fitting armor. But there was some compensation; other than being pantless, the Dark Ranger looked the powerful figure Jaina had heard much about and now seen firsthand.

“Is this what you wanted, Jaina?” Sylvanas said playfully, and in response the sorceress gently maneuvered one of her hands downward. The Banshee Queen sighed as Jaina’s hand tickled down her exposed flesh at chest and belly, caressing between her armoured breasts. Eventually the hand maneuvered through Sylvanas’ pubic hair, then further to rest between the Dark Lady’s thighs.

More than anything Jaina wanted to taste that beautiful pussy of Sylvanas Windrunner again, but she also felt a desire to “test the waters” first. She soon found she needn’t have bothered. Between the legs Sylvanas was just as wet as she had been the night before and the Banshee Queen’s red eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement from above.

Even so, Jaina made herself wait as she slid a finger into that moist cave. Sylvanas let out a contented sigh, her voice strangely amplified by her status as a Forsaken to echo beyond the human norm. Jaina was no stranger to this sound though. She drew her finger out, soaking with the Dark Ranger’s fluids, and then slid it back in again, this time adding a second.

Eventually, Jaina had all her fingers thrust into the wet, inviting pussy of Sylvanas Windrunner. The former Elf gave another moan as one particularly violent fingering sent her into a rush of pleasure.

Their faces were close enough that their breath warmed the other. The fact that the two were of a height only added to the feeling of compatibility. Jaina thrust in and out, her blue eyes watching the play of emotions on Sylvanas’ face as it contorted in pleasure.

Eventually the Banshee Queen began to moan openly in her delight. The sorceress felt a sense of contentment, fondness, and power rush into her at the reaction. Sylvanas’ armored form heaved in deep, pleasurable breaths of excitement. Jaina continued to plunder the other’s depths for a moment more before finally sliding her moist hand out.

Sylvanas looked down as the glistening hand of her lover drew back from her moist center. Her red eyes met Jaina’s as the sorceress brought the hand slowly, carefully, up to her mouth. The pink lips opened wide to admit her first finger, which Jaina sucked softy, lewdly to experience anew the taste of her lover.

There was nothing in Azeroth that could have distracted Sylvanas from that sight as she watched Jaina's actions with a look of relish and rapture. The Dark Ranger let to let out a low, echoing moan at the sight, unable to stay still any longer.

“I want you, Jaina...”

Sylvanas pushed Jaina downwards onto her Dark Throne. Fortunately, the symbol of Forsaken power was big enough that Jaina could lie down on her back comfortably, only her legs past her knees extending beyond its clutches. The Banshee Queen sighed as she looked down at the young sorceress’ sweet young form, clothed in its mage’s robes that did not manage to fully obscure the lithe female form or the sorceress’ large round breasts. If only she had taken the time to remove Jaina’s clothing.

There was no more patience in Sylvanas now, though, not after Jaina’s early ministrations. She had wanted this from the very beginning, and now the young sorceress had fingered her into even greater desire. The Dark Lady braced her legs on the armrests of her throne, her body lowering itself towards the glowing, beautiful face below.

Jaina looked upwards, treated to a glorious, uninhibited view of Sylvanas' descending pussy, still visibly aroused. She could see past it as well, up the curve of the Banshee Queen’s armoured breasts to her face which was looking downwards raptly with red eyes. The Elf ears were fully extended, the blonde hair framing Sylvanas’ face magnificently.

The young sorceress could not help herself. A pink tongue snaked out between her lips in preparation, Jaina’s blue eyes closing as she awaited the Dark Ranger’s arrival. Sylvanas Windrunner let her eyes travel down Jaina again to the young face that was the very picture of human beauty, the tender nose, blue eyes closed in anticipation, lips parted by the tongue that the Banshee Queen wanted to feel again more than anything.

Sylvanas paused with her resplendent nude form poised above, smiling wickedly.

“Excellent,” the Dark Lady of the Forsaken said in her iron tones, sending a thrill of excitement through Jaina. “Lick my pussy. That is a royal command, sorceress.”

Without waiting a single aching moment further, Sylvanas finally completed her decent, locking her dripping pussy onto the face of Jaina Proudmoore as if the two had been designed for it.

The position was not totally comfortable for either party. Jaina’s legs extended off the throne at the knees, leaving them dangling over the edge. Sylvanas had to brace her own legs on the armrests of her throne, requiring significant strength. Quickly both women were lost to such worldly concerns though in their respective pleasures. For Sylvanas there was only the feeling of Jaina’s tongue swirling within her, pleaure and fondness burgeoning within her for the lovely Archmage. The sorceress continued her ministrations, demonstrating her own affection for the Banshee Queen who had saved her life to emerge as her latest lover.

Jaina’s tongue flicked into Sylvanas again and again, the sorceress’ blue eyes opening repeatedly to study her situation before closing again. Sylvanas observed from above, studying the blonde head between her thighs with hungry red eyes. One particularly strong lash made the Banshee Queen moan, her leg muscles straining as they sustained her weight. Jaina reflected that she must have quite the strength to hold herself up like that. Sylvanas was no slouch in the athletic department it seemed.

Jaina continued to lick at the pussy perched on her face, both parties lost in timeless, indescribable joy. Eventually though Sylvanas reached a new height of rapture as Jaina unrestrainedly pushed her tongue ever further inside her lover’s pussy, the sorceress’ fingers also at furious work around the tongue.

“Jaina…I am so…very…close…” Sylvanas panted.

The blonde sorceress contemplated that. It seemed the proud, strong Banshee Queen was about to cum powerfully on Jaina’s face and tongue. That enamouring thought only made Jaina smile wider, seen with delight by her lover above, as the Archmage kept up her efforts, plunging her tongue deeply inside Sylvanas.

As Sylvanas felt the sorceress’ pierce full length into her, that familiar sensation suddenly changed as Jaina suddenly locked her mouth on every bit of the Banshee Queen’s pussy she could find and sucked furiously. There was nothing Sylvanas could do at that absolutely magical sensation other than explode in orgasm, sending a wave of her fluids into the blonde sorceress’ hungry mouth below. Louder than anything Jaina had heard from Sylvanas yet, the Banshee Queen let out a screech to mark her own furious climax.

Jaina’s eyes shot open to study the powerful armoured figure writhing in orgasm above. The blonde hair tossed this side and that, the red eyes closed, then opening again as it sensed the blue eyed gaze. Their eyes locked together as Sylvanas continued spasming into Jaina’s mouth as the other kept sucking furiously, her mouth unyielding as it took in all the Banshee Queen’s climax. That wondrous suction only served to make Sylvanas’ orgasm go on longer than any she could remember.

“Oh…Jaina…” Sylvanas panted as the greater fury of her release passed. Aftershocks continued, a testament to the power of her release, but Jaina simply would not stop. The young sorceress breathed through her nose, the only way she could with her mouth all but glued to Sylvanas’, the gentle warm exhalations into the Banshee Queen’s pussy only extending Sylvanas’ delight.

Then the wonderful experience was finally over. Sylvanas had fallen bonelessly onto the armrests, her form no longer held up rigidly but instead collapsing in post-orgasmic bliss. Incredulous, the Banshee Queen saw Jaina still upon her, blue eyes staring upwards in mixed affection, mischief and delight. Jaina hadn’t simply pleasured her; she had consumed every bit of Sylvanas’ essence and left not a drop to be wasted. Even now the young sorceress remained sucking away devotedly, dutifully.

“Enough, Jaina,” Sylvanas panted as she reached, finally, a measure of overstimulation. Jaina smiled widely again and came off the Banshee Queen’s pussy with a soft pop. The blonde Archmage’s lips were glistening, and her mouth opened wide to show an amount of clear juices that would not shame a male ejaculation.

“I…” Sylvanas studied the sight for a sight for a moment, and reflected on the unyielding devotion the sorceress had just demonstrated. “That's so hot...”

The Banshee Queen removed herself from her lovely perch and even further off the armrests. She stood above the sorceress for a moment as Jaina laid backwards on the Dark Throne, tongue working inside her mouth, analyzing the newfound deposit of fluids before swallowing lewdly with relish. Sylvanas let herself descend gently forward. Jaina’s body was warm and her breasts pillowed her own as Sylvanas’ lips met those of the fellow blonde, getting a good taste of herself as the Archmage returned the kiss passionately.

Sylvanas enjoyed the taste of herself upon Jaina’s sweet lips a moment more, then broke then kiss. The Dark Lady’s blonde locks tumbled around her face as she descended lower down Jaina’s body, between the pair of clothed breasts. Jaina might like Sylvanas in her outfit of rule, the Banshee Queen thought to herself, but to her there was one way that Jaina looked best.

Sylvanas dug her hands into Jaina’s robes and thrust them open to fully expose the glorious nude form of the young blonde sorceress once more.

Carefully the Banshee Queen kissed between the two heaving breasts with nipples fully erect in the air. Jaina sighed as the beautiful Sylvanas continued her journey down her young female form until she reached her destination and kissed upon her own pubic hair.

Sylvanas’ blue face and glowing red eyes studied between Jaina’s legs for a moment, ears extended and twitching. Then a pair of blue arms wound themselves into Jaina’s legs, gently pushing them apart. Jaina hardly resisted as her legs opened to expose her pussy fully to Sylvanas.

There was a pause as Sylvanas studied the sight of the sorceress’ lovely and visibly aroused pussy, and then she looked up to Jaina. Her iron tones usually reserved for her subjects once again came into her voice.

“I want you.”

“I will have you.”

Then Sylvanas buried her head furiously into Jaina Proudmoore’s pussy, eliciting a moan of pleasure from the sorceress.

The Banshee Queen was more experienced with cunnilingus than her partner and it showed. Jaina’s body quickly began to heave at the pleasurable sensations Sylvanas inflicted upon her. The Dark Lady knew that it was not always the depth of penetration that mattered, but the difference of strokes, the variation and the technique. Sylvanas was only too pleased to demonstrate on her willing test subject, as she flicked her head around that moist pussy. Jaina cried out and wound her arms downward onto Sylvanas’ head, fingers wound into those beautiful framing blonde locks she loved so much.

The Dark Ranger continued her exquisite efforts and Jaina knew that she was already close to her orgasm, far sooner than it had taken for Sylvanas. The Banshee Queen was simply too skillful, and the emotions of the day had lowered her inhibitions. Not only that but the sweet recent memory of the powerful Sylvanas Windrunner shuddering in her own orgasm above was an endearing and inflaming one. Jaina was close, but she clung onto the precipice as best she could. The blonde sorceress studied the wiggling Elf ears and blue face between her legs, and sighed at the enamouring sight. She could not possibly last much longer in such exquisite rapture.

There came a sudden pop behind Sylvanas, of displaced air. The Banshee Queen and her Archmage lover were both far too distracted to notice it at first, wrapped up instead in their pleasures. But Jaina opened her eyes to see a familiar male figure, studying the scene behind the unaware Sylvanas. There was a sudden rush of adrenaline and fear inside Jaina but that only served to send her even closer to her climax, too close to the edge to stop herself. Even with the knowledge of who was observing them, the young blonde sorceress cried out and came with an almost explosive, shuddering power.

The Banshee Queen’s ears twitched at that as she tasted her lover’s fierce orgasm and her mouth drove forward. Returning the earlier favour to her lover, Sylvanas Windrunner locked her lips on the beautiful spasming pussy of Jaina Proudmoore sucked for all she was worth. The feeling was incomparable. The sight of the newcomer was a distant memory for Jaina as she exploded in ecstasy, screaming as she sent what must have been a veritable tide of her juices into the Dark Lady of the Forsaken’s willing mouth.

Jaina’s body shuddered in rapture, contorting in her climax, white-blonde hair shaking. Sylvanas looked up with red eyes and studied the sight of Jaina in her orgasmic throes with a smile, keeping her mouth firmly against the young sorceress’ pussy in uncompromising sucking. Jaina could not control herself for many seconds as she plunged into the deep abyss of orgasm.

The young blonde soreress’ legs eventually went slack around Sylvanas’ head. Jaina panted, her eyes closed, still enjoying the sensation of the Banshee Queen’s mouth and lips upon her most sensitive area. Then Jaina’s eyes opened, remembering the observing man still there, watching the situation with an unreadable expression on his face.

Jaina’s eyes met the stranger’s and she let out a startled gasp. Immediately, the Banshee Queen knew something was amiss, spinning around to grab for her bow next to the throne. In an instant a dark arrow was pointed at the intruder by one of the most formidable archers in Azeroth. The Dark Ranger looked fierce, even with her blue mouth gleaming with Jaina’s fluids and the exposed legs of her pantless form. Squarely behind her, protected by Sylvanas, was Jaina with her sweat-gleaming form lying on the Dark Throne.

The man made no move to stop the Banshee Queen. There was a fierceness and fury Jaina had not often seen on Sylvanas’ face as she confronted the intruder.

“Who are you? How did you get in here? What do you want?”

The man made no reply except to look past Sylvanas to Jaina. The sorceress cleared her throat, her world and body still spinning from her recent, powerful orgasm.

“Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken,” Jaina said, voice sheepish, low, and exhausted.

“Meet Kalecgos, leader of the Blue Dragonflight and Aspect of Magic.”

She paused before completing her introduction.

“My boyfriend.”

 


	4. Escalation

Silence reigned in the Royal Chambers of the Undercity.

All three parties continued their standoff as Sylvanas contemplated Jaina’s last words, the former Elf’s face was a still mask.

Kalecgos was equally motionless within his comely human form. What gave his true nature away though were the brilliantly shining eyes, a shade of colour so pure that they almost hurt to look at. There radiated a sense of power from him that Sylvanas had never known from any creature she had ever met...including Arthas.

It seemed that Jaina Proudmoore was entrancing to members of the opposite sex as well, and even dragonkin. The thought prompted a rush of jealousy inside Sylvanas.

Of all the things to compete against for the young sorceress’ attentions, it was a dragon and the current Aspect of Magic.

Jaina's naked form was still splayed upon the Dark Throne, and the sorceress eventually realized the absurdity of her situation. She rose to grab her nearby clothes on visibly unsteady legs.

Sylvanas observed her difficulty with satisfaction. Clearly Jaina had experienced a powerful enough orgasm at her hands (or, more accurately, mouth) to leave her still recovering. The Banshee Queen peripherally observed her finally clothe herself and turn back.

“Kalec, I-“ Jaina began.

Kalecgos cut her off with a thundering voice, but somehow Sylvanas knew no one could hear it but them. If the dragon could appear at will inside the very center of Forsaken power he was likely as powerful as she feared. There would be no interruptions unless he wanted there to be.

“I came as soon as I had heard of your capture, Jaina,” Kalec intoned. It was not fair to say he was merely speaking for that did not do it justice. His voice reverberated and his eyes shone with a pure, unremitting light.

“I would never leave you in the clutches of these creatures.”

He paused.

“And here I stand now a witness to this.” His voice took on an edge of tiredness but there was more than a little anger in it. “Explain yourself. If you dare.”

Sylvanas met the fury of the dragon with no trace of fear. The Banshee Queen did not often meet her peers in power and even less often those that exceed it. Even with so she did not back down, instead unleashing a burning red glare at the humanoid dragon.

“Sylvanas.” Jaina said softly.

The Dark Ranger did not reply at first, eyes locked on Kalecgos with mutually uncompromising expressions. Both seemed to be striving for dominance over the other.

Sylvanas would be damned before she showed any sign of weakness to this creature. Jaina was hers and she knew the young sorceress reciprocated her feelings…the evidence was only mounting.

“What is it, Jaina.” Sylvanas finally replied.

“Lower your bow.”

Sylvanas hesitated. Then with a single smooth gesture she dropped her weapon, the act drawing no response from Kalecgos.

The Banshee Queen moved purposefully to the side, addressing her own bottomless nature by picking up her own hastily discarded clothing. While Jaina’s own movements had been slow and almost guilty, Sylvanas’ own moves were efficient, obvious, and full of defiance.

When she too was clad once more, the Dark Ranger turned again to confront Kalecgos.

“You may have been her former lover, dragon, but she loves another now. You cannot deprive her of the choice of her heart. If you truly care for her-“

Kalecgos made a sudden casual, slashing gesture at chest level. Almost immediately, a cone of azure light surrounded the Banshee Queen, a circle of entrapping magic that cut off her words and levitated her bizarrely into the air.

Filled with fear, Jaina cried out.

“Don’t hurt her, Kalec. Please!”

“She need not be harmed. I merely mean to spare us from her feeble diatribe.” Kalecgos looked away from his new prisoner to the blonde sorceress. “You cannot trust her or any of her words, Jaina. She is undead.”

“She is Forsaken, that much is true,” Jaina said. “There is a difference.”

Kalecgos considered the words for a moment. “Why do you defend her?”

Jaina hesitated. “She saved my life, Kalec. More than once.”

“Saved your life?” the humanoid dragon laughed in a horrifying sound full of scorn. “She is an enemy who had you captured. Not only that but now she has somehow twisted your mind to her advantage. You are a prisoner who now defends your captor. Do you understand how ridiculous you sound?”

Kalecgos looked to the immobile, levitating Sylvanas and spoke again.

“I easily have the power to remove you from this place. To protect you from the likes of this Banshee Queen. Of our relationship, I am not sure of the damage. But I owe you at least as much as making sure you are safe.”

Jaina looked to Kalecgos pleadingly. “You would be making me as much a prisoner when I first came here, Kalec. I want to stay here with Sylvanas, for I have seen there is more to her than even you can know. I have seen it myself.”

The young sorceress hesitated briefly before plunging irrevocably forward. “I love her.”

The words were strong. Kalecgos’ expression changed from one of anger to one more innocent.

Sadness.

“Why, Jaina,” Kalecgos said softly. “I thought we had found joy with each other.”

Apologetically Jaina met his eyes. “We did Kalec. I will never forget the times we shared...but now it's time to move on.”

“You think I will simply leave you here as slave to these...Forsaken?”

Jaina gave him a fierce look. “I am no slave. And you will leave us if you truly care for me Kalec. This is what I want.”

Kalecgos' expression changed and Jaina suddenly felt a tingling that reached every corner of her body.

“There is no enchantment on you, Jaina,” Kalecgos said quizzically. “Your emotions are pure.”

“They are.”

Kalecgos looked only all the sadder at this realization, and Jaina felt herself wanting to comfort him but she knew she couldn’t.

“It was always your choice to be with me, and mine to be with you, Jaina. If this is truly your will…”

Jaina looked at him with watery eyes. “I’m sorry Kalecgos, for what this is doing to you. You do not deserve this.”

“I am sorry too.” Kalecgos sighed and repeated his earlier slashing gesture. The column of light around the Banshee Queen vanished. Sylvanas fell lightly back to her feet, expression as inscrutable as ever.

The Dark Ranger in turn felt the curious sensation as the dragon analyzed her as well with his piercing stare.

“For what it is worth she loves you as well, Jaina.” Kalecgos said the words slowly as if they pained him. “Pure love between two souls is a rare and precious gift in any world.”

“You will take care of her, Banshee Queen.” It was a calmly spoken statement but one with no shortage of underlying menace. “If you fail I will be back for you. I promise you that.”

Sylvanas looked defiantly at him. “I will protect Jaina. You have my word on everything left I hold dear.”

The Aspect of Magic cast one final, fraught glance to the sorceress.

“I still love you Jaina, know that. Be careful in this dark place. This Banshee Queen may not be enough to protect you from the dangers that approach even at this very moment.”

With these prophetic, doom-filled words, Kalecgos popped out of existence as swiftly as he had come, leaving nothing behind but a faint rush of displaced air.

Jaina did not truly realize when the tears had begun to fall from her eyes. The young sorceress let out a sob and fell to her knees, bringing her hands up to stem the flow.

Kalecgos had been good to her at every turn. She had been happy in his company and within his power. He had even loved her enough to leave her when he knew it was what she wanted.

She knew she had hurt him, hurt the leader of the Blue Dragonflight and the Aspect of Magic. Jaina felt an immense sense of guilt for it.

Amidst her despair she heard soft footsteps before a gauntleted hand touched her shoulder.

Jaina tensed for a moment, looking back up at Sylvanas. The Banshee Queen bore a sympathetic expression, all the more notable for how infrequently it graced her blue features. Her often blazing red eyes conveyed a new softness.

For once they did not kiss or shake in mutual desire. Sylvanas Windrunner simply hugged her, wrapping surprisingly strong arms around the young sorceress.

Jaina returned the embrace, body still shaking, crying into Sylvanas’ shoulder. The Dark Lady remained still, allowing the emotions to flow from her lover.

At length Jaina stilled, eyes looking upwards.

“Sylvanas,” she said quietly.

“Yes, Jaina?” the Banshee Queen replied just as softly.

“Do you ever regret this? How we feel about each other?” Jaina looked so insecure in that moment, so human and vulnerable. “It has cost both of us so much.”

Sylvanas considered for a moment before speaking a single word with iron resolve.

“Never.”

Jaina felt a rush of emotion surge into her at that, the sensation cutting through her haze of uncertainty and vulnerability.

The Banshee Queen looked at her young human lover and pressed on.

“I would do every decision I have made again if given the choice. What we have between us is true, Kalecgos said as much.”

“You said you loved me, Jaina Proudmoore. And I love you too.” Sylvanas brought her face forward into the tear-stained one and the young sorceress returned the kiss passionately, her arms snaking around the Banshee Queen’s regal form.

Dimly, Jaina was aware of the armoured breasts pressing into the soft cloth of her mage robes. The young sorceress also grew aware of certain other things as well…the warmth of Sylvanas’ mouth, the shapeliness of her body, the feeling between her own thighs and the moisture gathering there…

There came a sudden knocking. Both women lingered in the kiss as if they wanted nothing else in the whole world and then reluctantly broke apart.

“What is it?” Sylvanas demanded with more than a little heat, obviously irritated.

“My Queen, we have a grave matter that requires your attention.” The Deathguard at the door did not even have the grace to be abashed this time, his tone instead infused with urgency.

“What is it?”

“The son of Veryn Dallbright has dispatched a proclamation to the Undercity. He demands retribution, my lady.”

Sylvanas’ red eyes widened. “What?”

“He requests a parley with you and brings the defense force of the Bulwark in his cause. They are already marching down the main road as we speak.”

“Muster the garrison.” Sylvanas did not hesitate. “Have the various local commanders report to me at once. This will not stand.”

“Yes, my Queen.” Distantly they heard the Deathguard depart.

“I’m sorry, Jaina,” Sylvanas said. “We will have to postpone until later. Duty calls.”

Jaina only favoured her with a brilliant smile, face still glimmering with tears. “I understand.”

***

Athelion Dallbright rode through the Tirisfal Glades at the head of a marching column.

The young Forsaken rogue was a mix of swirling emotions. Pride at leading an army, anger at the death of his father, and no small measure of guilt and regret. It was sad that it had come to this. Athelion felt no joy in what he was doing but it was what had to be done.

His father had said as much to him in that still recent night where Athelion had confessed what he had seen, Sylvanas Windrunner and Jaina Proudmoore locked in their tryst.

“I will attempt to solve this personally, but in case I fail you must take up this mantle.”

Veryn Dallbright had pressed a scroll into his son’s hands. “My son, if I should not return to you…”

Athelion had felt himself tearing up and steeled himself. “You will return, Father. You are too important. Not only to me but to the Forsaken as a whole.”

“If I should not return,” Veryn repeated steadily. “Give this to Nereus. He will know what it means.”

Veryn Dallbright had defended the Bulwark against the Undead for years and the garrison was loyal to him. More to the point it was also conveniently positioned close to the Undercity.

“This scroll has the power to incite civil war in the Forsaken, my son,” Veryn said gravely. “I do not give it to even my own blood lightly.”

The elderly rogue had paused. “Sylvanas has been the center of our strength, our monarch and greatest warrior. I have been proud to serve under her as she ably defends our realm. The Forsaken have no shortage of foes, even within the Horde.”

“I will give my Queen a chance to solve this issue with a minimal amount of conflict; merely the life of one captive sorceress. If she is who I gauge, she will recognize our perilous position and allow it. If not…” Veryn had studied his son with a determined stare.

“You cannot allow a bewitched Sylvanas and this feeble human mage to control our people by any means at your disposal. That is the solemn, difficult task I place on you, Athelion, should I not return.”

“How, Father?” Athelion had asked his sire, a palpable sense of doom having permeating into the Lord Seneschal’s office.

“I do not know,” Veryn had confessed. “Civil war is not ideal. The Forsaken have many foes and our borders are hard beset, and these tactical difficulties have even forced us to join the vile Horde. But civil war is preferable to being handed to the Alliance and seeing our independence being undone.”

“Don’t go, Father,” Athelion had said feebly, childishly. “We need you.”

“I must do what I have always done; serve the Forsaken.” Veryn had given his son a final look of affection, regret, sadness, and resolution mixed in one.

“As must you.”

His father’s final words to him rang through Athelion’s ears even now. The Lord Seneschal had not survived his audience with the Queen; Athelion could only guess what had happened there.

One thing was certain though; the Banshee Queen and her prisoner were both still alive. That could not stand. It was the last command of his father, and he would obey.

Athelion Dallbright rode with his army towards his destiny, the fate of the Forsaken hanging in the balance.

 


	5. Anticipation

The day was bleak.

Clouds hung overhead, obscuring the sun behind a dark curtain in the sky. Rain had yet to fall but its potential remained, a constant threat.

There was an unsettling feeling now about the Tirisfal Glades, a marked change from the peaceful times of the Kingdom of Lordaeron. Danger seemed to be around every corner from the unnatural creatures who prowled the otherwise unsettling once verdant grasslands.

Even these threats paled to that which stood before the entrance to the Undercity. There the garrison of the Bulwark, led by the figure of Athelion Dallbright, stood in disciplined ranks before the Forsaken capital.

Opposite them were arrayed most of the defending garrison bar only those needed to secure the other entrances. Sylvanas had commanded as many soldiers as could be found on short notice to join the force. The Banshee Queen hoped a show of her might could intimidate the young and largely inexperienced Athelion.

Before these ranks of Undercity loyalists, mounted on an undead glowing with unholy brightness, was the Dark Lady herself. Some commanders might have lead from the rear but Sylvanas Windrunner had never been the type. She knew the Forsaken both needed and followed strength and had proven her own time and again. With a calculating intelligence her eyes lingered over the rebel ranks before fixing upon Athelion.

The rogue rode forth to meet her, the other's figure growing larger by the moment inh is vision. He remembered all too well the pale blue shade of the Banshee Queen’s skin, skull-adorned armour clinging to her female form, the daringly exposed midriff and chest. Her blonde hair snuck out a few fair strands from beneath the Dark Ranger’s cowl.

Once, understandably, Athelion had been quite smitten with his Banshee Queen. Of course those times were well past now.

He stopped a few meters away from Sylvanas and looked into her glowing red eyes without fear.

“Young Athelion,” Sylvanas greeted him in customary echoing tones. “How nice it is you’ve come for a chat. A pity you brought so many friends though; I do so much prefer intimacy.”

“Sylvanas.”

The way he casually addressed her was infuriating but the Banshee Queen chose to ignore it. “Why are you here?”

“You know why.” Athelion faced her boldly. “My father entrusted me with ensuring the Forsaken remained both strong and independent against a new threat.”

“And who provided these dire portents, pray tell?” Sylvanas studied him closely. Athelion groped for some falsehood but the hesitation gave him away. The Banshee Queen nodded, smiling.

“Ah. You’ve been spying on me, Athelion, haven’t you?”

Athelion did not feel it was something he should admit to. “No, Sylvanas…”

“Did you watch me lick Jaina’s pussy, Athelion?” the Banshee Queen said quietly, her red eyes keenly studying his reaction. “Did you watch her lick mine? She is surprisingly good as you no doubt saw.”

Despite himself Athelion flushed at that, and Sylvanas smiled cruelly in reply.

“You are far too easy to read, young rogue. You have no business being here and bringing an army to challenge my might. I assure you it will not end well for you. I have faced far greater threats than your feeble likes.”

“I am here only because I must be. I have a responsibility to both my father and as a member of the Forsaken.” Athelion was feeling more woefully outmatched by the moment but it would not do to show it.

“You want to talk, Athelion…so talk. If you wanted to attack instead, I highly doubt you would give me notice. Instead you would have tried something…more roguish.” Sylvanas smiled confidently. “You would have been welcome to try.”

“I have not come to assault the Undercity unless I must.” Athelion grew serious, his gaze intent. “You know how perilous our realm is better than anyone. We are in the midst of enemies who grow in strength every day while our own stagnate. You have even been forced into joining the Horde when you and your subjects despise them.”

He paused, studying the Banshee Queen’s features vainly for any sort of reaction.

“You know how much a civil war will cost us. It will bleed off our strength and leave us even more vulnerable to our enemies. Already the Bulwark is abandoned; what if the undead should attack it?”

“Where is this going, Athelion?”

“This.” The rogue removed his glove and flung it full into the Banshee Queen’s face. Sylvanas was far too swift for that though, the Dark Ranger catching the glove deftly and studying it carefully with red eyes.

“Single combat, Sylvanas...you and me. I have only one condition. You bring the harlot to watch as I end you, so she can behold how her scheme to control the Forsaken utterly fails.”

“Single combat," the Dark Lady mused. “You and me, avoiding all sorts of messy civil war. It sounds almost too good to be true, Athelion.”

“You are that confident you can win?” the rogue challenged. “I am no mere weakling, Sylvanas.”

The Banshee Queen only smiled at the weak bravado.

“It is true enough that I do not desire battle here, and for the sake of our people I must accept. You will have to be another casualty of your misguided conscience just like your father. He was a noble man, and you are truly his son…but it will not stop you from meeting your doom at my hands.”

“You killed him.” Athelion’s voice was controlled.

“He challenged me.” Sylvanas met his stare. “I do not accept challenges to my authority. I cannot. You know that.”

Athelion stood there in silence, his gaze growing colder by the moment. “I am going to kill you, Sylvanas. Two hours from now, in the city's main courtyard. Bring the whore.”

Sylvanas’ expression darkened at the last. “She is no whore, you upstart whelp. You dare to incite civil war and stand here in open threat to my rule. I should kill you where you stand.”

“If you did my force would attack yours. Even if you prevailed the Forsaken would be weakened. If you truly want this I cannot stop you.”

Athelion waited as the Banshee Queen's expression grew dark.

“Two hours, Athelion. Make peace with your end.”

“Consider your own actions, Sylvanas. You have far more to be guilty of than I do.”

Sylvanas wheeled her horse about, throwing a final red glare back over her fair shoulder. “You have no idea just how true that is, young Athelion.”

The Dark Lady departed, leaving the rogue to return to his own ranks and prepare himself for what was to come.

***

“Single combat? Is he really so stupid?”

Marshal Bravar,the commander of the Undercity’s garrison, spoke to Sylvanas as the Banshee Queen perched negligently upon her Dark Throne.

“I cannot speak to his state of mind,” Sylvanas commented. “But this will save us much conflict. I do not fear him, and I will face him.”

“We can still attack,” Bravar offered weakly even as her other gathered advisors nodded in sycophantic agreement. “We could crush his force as he waits unprepared.”

“No.” Sylvanas swung her eyes to study them all. “I lead the Forsaken and if they need another example as to why I will give it to them.”

Her eyes flickered over at Jaina’s docile form in chains, almost lost in shadow at the corner of the room, and her fierce expression softened. “This is my fight.”

“As you wish, my Queen.” Bravar subsided.

“I have heard enough. Out, all of you. The day’s bloodletting will be tiring, and I must prepare.”

There was not even a hint of dissent. Each of the various commanders turned to depart, closing the thick iron doors behind them.

Sylvanas remained upon her seat to watch them go then moved her gaze to where Jaina remained bound. “You can take them off now, my dear.”

The sorceress broke free of her loose shackles and stood easily, blue eyes studying the Banshee Queen. “Sylvanas…”

“There is something more about this matter that concerns you, Jaina,” Sylvanas said. Her red eyes flicked unashamedly up and down the young sorceress’ form, lingering on certain areas that sent a thrill of excitement through Jaina even now.

“Athelion desires your presence at the duel. To watch me die, he says.” The Banshee Queen hesitated. “Of course I shall refuse him this condition at the last moment.”

Jaina looked at her. “Why?”

“Battle is never as simple as the strongest conquering the weakest, Jaina.” Sylvanas paused. “There is a great deal of luck and chance always at play. I am stronger by far but Athelion could simply be the more fortunate. If I should fall you should not be there to watch.”

“I want to be, Sylvanas.” Jaina did not hesitate. “What you have sacrificed…this entire conflict is because of me…”

“I have said it before,” the Dark Lady replied. “I would do everything as I have again if I had the choice.”

Sylvanas' expression grew pensive.

“I am glad Athelion offered single combat,” the former Elf admitted. “This situation was one of my own making. Now I can solve it myself without a risk to my people. It is my fight. Living or Forsaken we make our choices and must face the consequences.”

“I want to be there, Sylvanas. I won’t simply sit here as you face death.”

“Death.” Sylvanas smiled at that. “I have already faced death so often it has lost power over me. But now that I have something to live for…” Her expression grew softer, more worried.

“I am going to watch the duel.” Jaina’s voice took on her own note of steel. “You can’t risk Athelion backing out of the duel and attacking. Moreover, I want to see you gut that worm. And finally…”

The young sorceress’ chin rose defiantly. “You can’t stop me.”

Sylvanas looked at Jaina with amusement. “You really think so, Jaina? You make such claims, here in the center of my power?”

“You could only try.” Jaina studied the Banshee Queen boldly.

The Dark Lady held the look of the young blonde sorceress steadily, and then without warning she laughed. It was a strange sound, echoing as it did, and Jaina had a feeling it had not often been heard often in these haunted halls.

“You are worthy, Jaina Proudmoore,” Sylvanas said lightly afterward. “You have such fire burning in your heart and I love that about you. I know you are more than capable of protecting yourself.”

The Banshee Queen pondered for a moment longer before subsiding. “Very well. You can watch the duel. Just promise me you will be safe while I deal with this stripling.”

“How much longer do we have?” Jaina asked quietly.

“Around ninety minutes.” Sylvanas smiled. “I guess I should prepare…but there’s not really much more to do other than ponder what is to come.”

“Not much else to do?” Jaina echoed, voice taking on a husky edge. “Are you so certain?”

Sylvanas looked to the sorceress' expression and a smile favoured her lips. “On second thought I can think of something else much more exciting. It would be nice if you could find some way to take my mind off these mundane politics.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jaina promised. The Archmage approached the Dark Throne, letting a sensuous sway enter her step that Sylvanas observed with hungry red eyes.

“Now what has happened to the chaste young human I first met,” Sylvanas said playfully, eyes studying her lover’s movements with undisguised pleasure.

“I’ll show you just how chaste I am, Sylvanas.” Standing before the other Jaina reached into the folds of her mage robes. They parted swiftly to reveal her familiar peach skin and glorious nude form.

The blonde sorceress bore herself with a confident smile, letting the robe fall to the floor in a pool of cloth. She stepped over it naked and Sylvanas rose to meet her at last, the two kissing passionately.

As their tongues dueled Jaina’s arms snaked around the Banshee Queen. She reached for the clasp of Sylvanas’ cloak and unclasped it to let it fall behind her.

The kiss broke. Jaina’s hands deftly began to tug at this place and that, the armour of the Dark Ranger soon collected in a neglected pile around her upon the ground. As the Archmage exposed her Sylvanas looked unabashedly upon Jaina’s nudity.

The young sorceress was so vibrant and full of life, a wonderful contrast to the cold realm of the Forsaken. Everything about her screamed vitality, the vivid blue eyes, the pale pink nipples extended outward in arousal, the excited breaths, the face rapt in excitement. It made for a seductive vision even to as formidable a temptress as Sylvanas.

The Dark Ranger was left only in breastplate and leggings, bereft of her trademark cowl with blonde hair unleashed at last.

“What happened to you liking my attire?” the Banshee Queen commented wryly as Jaina’s hands fiddled eagerly at the clasp of her breastplate.

“That still has its charms...but I need to see you Sylvanas. All of you, like our first time.” The Banshee Queen felt the breastplate finally unlatch. “I don’t want there to be anything hidden between us.”

Jaina let the piece fall with a clatter to the ground to expose Sylvanas from the waist up. The blue breasts came free, bereft of their oppressive, unyielding prison at last. The young blonde studied them and their darker blue, almost purple nipples which were as erect as her own.

The sorceress wanted this time to be special; both had gone down on the other already, had tasted their lover’s womanhoods. Now Jaina wanted to experiment with the lush beauty of the Banshee Queen.

It was as almost an afterthought that Jaina tugged down Sylvanas’ leggings, once again exposing the sights there for her hungry eyes. The young sorceress had to kneel to do it and Jaina kissed right in the center of Sylvanas’ blonde mound, teasingly, promisingly, before rising.

The smell of their growing arousal grew in the cold, still air as both once more drank in the glory of the other’s naked form.

After a long moment Jaina took the lead for once. She was filled with a sense of contentment that both of them were now fully exposed to each other. In too short a time this strong, brave Banshee Queen would be fighting a dangerous duel all for her.

Jaina wanted Sylvanas to know that she had something to fight for.

The Archmage sorceress brought her face forward into Sylvanas’, kissing those dark lips fiercely. Both blue and pink arms snaked against the other, the silky locks of their blonde and white locks hair tickling the other’s face. Jaina felt the endearing sensation of Sylvanas’ breasts once again press into hers, both of a wonderfully equal size.

It was heavenly. Jaina could not help herself, shaking her chest to one side then the other, her sensitive erect nipples pressing into Sylvanas’ own. The Banshee Queen smiled into their kiss and mirrored the gesture, and Jaina shuddered in pleasure before breaking away.

“You know, I guess we’ve been too occupied with…other locations,” Sylvanas said slyly, her gaze fixed downwards at Jaina’s luscious globes. “I haven't fully appreciated what a nice chest you have.”

In response Jaina bent downwards, a curtain of white-blonde hair falling forward with the growing force of gravity. Her mouth took one of Sylvanas’ blue breasts inside and latched onto the nipple. Jaina’s face grew almost feral as she bit softly into that hard dark nub, leading Sylvanas to exhale but she did not push the blonde head away.

The young sorceress eventually lifted her head away, leading to a faint sound of loss from above before she repeated her actions on the other breast. The Banshee Queen was soaring, stimulated in a new way, enjoying the sight of the enrapturing face of Jaina Proudmoore licking at her breasts with relish.

Jaina pushed her lover backwards, hands still clutching at Sylvanas’ breasts, as if the sorceress could not keep her hands off them. The Dark Ranger let herself fall onto her own throne as Jaina wanted. The young sorceress reflected on the resplendent nude form of the Banshee Queen upon her seat of power, a sight that was hers alone.

Sylvanas continued to let Jaina have her way; she felt the hungriness, the curiosity in her lover and did not want to interrupt. The young blonde sorceress perched herself above on the armrests as once the Banshee Queen had done to her. She felt a sense of power as she towered over the unmoving Sylvanas, who studied the young blonde above with glowing red eyes.

Their first encounters had been so…furious, urgent. This one was something different; more patient, explorative, and fraught with implications of what was to come.

“I want to try something,” Jaina confessed. She straddled one of Sylvanas’ large breasts from above. The Banshee Queen waited, watching as Jaina lowered herself onto the erect nipple.

Jaina didn’t know what she expected, all she knew was that she wanted to try it. She felt her pussy very slightly penetrated by the nipple, the cushion of Sylvanas’ breast as she lowered herself upon it. Sylvanas felt the moist heat of Jaina’s womanhood upon her sensitive nub, studying the young sorceress’ nude form that towered above her, leaving glistening fluids of arousal upon her breast as she finally broke away.

From high above, Jaina studied Sylvanas’ now glistening breast and lifted off the armrests, bending down to take the moist nipple in her mouth. Sylvanas groaned as Jaina tasted herself upon the Banshee Queen with a hungry expression.

Then Jaina let herself fall slowly on top of Sylvanas. Their bodies merged lewdly once again upon the throne, their legs alone stretching beyond its cavernous grasp. Sylvanas decided to return the favour from earlier, taking a bit of initiative at last, bending her head downwards to suck at Jaina’s own pink nipple. The Banshee Queen bit down on the erect tips even harder than the young sorceress had, leading Jaina to unleash a cry of insignificant pain and greater pleasure.

Their faces returned to level. Unbidden their legs wound into each other, forms beautifully intertwined. Both women felt their moist cores sliding along the smooth lengths of each other’s legs, leaving moist trails of liquid upon the other. The blue eyes and the red met, breasts connected anew, each lover writhing against the other.

None of this had been planned, but it was a glorious evolution nonetheless. They could feel the other slide along the lengths of the leg, occasionally humping themselves into the hot, smooth skin of the other. Jaina felt her womanhood travel along the length of the Banshee Queen’s strong thighs. Unable to restrain herself, she reached a hand downwards between Sylvanas’ legs and was shocked even now by how much moisture she felt there. It was an easy enough thing to sink a finger, then two, and even more into her lover.

Sylvanas allowed herself to enjoy Jaina’s fingering, her head arched into the young sorceress’ shoulder. Then she, like any good lover, began to reciprocate. Jaina felt the Dark Ranger’s deft, nimble fingers penetrate into her welcoming pussy with delight.

These latest explorative efforts were leading ever closer towards an inexorable conclusion. Jaina looked into Sylvanas’ eyes with an expression of rapture, her hair falling below into the Banshee Queen’s face. They rocked against each other, their hands working between the other’s legs towards the goal of ultimate pleasure.

Sylvanas had thrust the fingers of one of her hands into Jaina’s pussy, exploring furiously as the other moved all along her lover’s form. One moment it clasped at a breast, then flicked achingly at a nipple, then stroked along a leg or lovingly caressed at Jaina’s face. The young sorceress dutifully tried to keep up even as her body shook with growing delight. One of her own hands groped the Dark Ranger’s pert breasts, kneading the soft flesh even as the other worked feverishly between Sylvanas’ thighs.

Their bodies were so close to release. Jaina felt Sylvanas’ pussy upon her leg even as her she slid along the smooth, lean leg of the Banshee Queen. Jaina was near her climax and she wanted to bring Sylvanas along with her, but she was unsure if she could hold on until finally the other stopped.

The young sorceress watched as Sylvanas removed her hand from Jaina’s dripping cunt, replacing it with the second. With red eyes studying the Archmage's reaction she licked at her moist fingers even as her ministrations continued anew.

“Mmm, you taste as good as ever,” Sylvanas said, licking each with a wickedly seductive expression that made Jaina soar.

“I want to…cum…with you…Sylvanas.” The young sorceress could hardly get the words out.

“Is that so, Jaina?” the Dark Lady said playfully, causing Jaina a mild sense of fury. She thrust all of her fingers inside Sylvanas roughly and made the smug expression disappear from the Dark Ranger’s face, to be replaced by one of rapture at this sudden, violent sensation.

“You are going to cum too, my Banshee Queen.” Jaina made the words a growl, a promise. “You are …uhh…I am…so close…Sylvanas…”

“Cum for me, Jaina.” Sylvanas’ red eyes met Jaina’s. “I want to feel your pussy cum around my fingers. If you’re lucky, I might even clean it up for you. Would you like that, you dirty girl?”

Sylvanas mirrored Jaina’s early movement, thrusting all of her fingers into the young sorceress’ pussy at once and exploring deftly. Jaina was too close to resist, and she exploded in orgasm at that wondrous sensation. She cried out, the Banshee Queen’s hand working even more furiously than ever between the young sorceress’ thighs.

A flood of liquid coated Sylvanas’ hand, making her smile. The Dark Ranger felt herself still being fingered fervently, and then Jaina drove some of the fingers of her second hand inside of her as well in a successful bid to send the Banshee Queen over the edge. Full of fond thoughts for the devotion of her lover, her pussy wonderfully stimulated, Sylvanas shuddered in her climax even as Jaina continued to writhe out her own.

Jaina made sure to keep stimulating her lover even as she lost herself in orgasmic delight as Sylvanas was. Both of their bodies shook, muscles contorting along their respective forms with the power of their release. Neither stopped their efforts, instead seeking instead to prolong the other’s pleasure. Jaina shrieked and cried out the Banshee Queen’s name, while Sylvanas responded more quietly, burying her head into Jaina’s shoulder and letting out a lower, continuous moan as her body lost control of itself under the sorceress’ touch.

Eventually Jaina’s head fell back in the power of her orgasm, still relishing the feel of Sylvanas’ dripping pussy in her fingers. Her eyes closed to register her pleasure even as the sensations receded from her. She felt a shifting below her and opened her eyes to discern what it was.

Instead of Sylvanas’ pretty face she was treated to the sight of the Banshee Queen’s glistening pussy and the full evidence of its recent powerful orgasm.

Evidently Sylvanas was enamoured at the similar sight near her as much as Jaina was. The young sorceress felt a tongue flick into her own wet pussy as at the other end the Banshee Queen kept her earlier promise, cleaning the fluids of Jaina's explosive climax with deft licks of tongue. Jaina bent down to do the same, working at Sylvanas’ pussy and lustfully pushing her tongue inside, the sorceress’ beautiful face locked in a rapturous expression as she ate out the proud Banshee Queen.

They continued this way for several more moments before finally they collapsed against the other. Neither Jaina nor Sylvanas seemed to mind as both caught their breaths for a long minute, womanhoods still temptingly only inches above each of their faces.

Then Sylvanas swung back up to Jaina and kissed the young sorceress as she lay exhausted against the Dark Throne, rising on her arms afterward to study the young Archmage.

“Thank you for that,” Sylvanas said softly. “It’s nice to go into battle on something so exquisite.”

“…Wow…” was all Jaina could say. Sylvanas laughed.

“I’m glad it was good for you too.”

The young blonde sorceress finally found her voice properly through her haze of bliss. “Sylvanas…I’m scared for-”

“Don’t be,” the Banshee Queen replied confidently but Jaina doggedly pressed on.

“Be careful. I can’t lose you, not now, not after everything we’ve been through together and what we’ve had to do.”

“Do not worry, my dear.” Sylvanas delicately tucked a strand of white hair back from Jaina’s flushed face. “I can’t lose the duel now. Not when I have something to fight for, as you demonstrated so willingly.”

The Dark Lady of the Forsaken paused, then pressed on. “I could never truly leave you, Jaina.”

Sylvanas let herself fall onto Jaina’s chest, head pillowed on one of the young sorceress’ sizable breasts. Her other blue hand toyed idly at the other, the Banshee Queen’s form curled upon her lover’s. Jaina reached a hand upwards to also stroke at Sylvanas’ form as it lay upon her.

The blonde sorceress’ mouth opened again to speak her reservations, but a single, sensuous blue finger rose to rest against the pink lips. “No more talk, Jaina. Let’s just relax, for these few minutes more at least.”

Jaina looked up to see a smile on the Banshee Queen’s face as she contemplated before speaking a final lingering request.

“Just let me stay a little while longer.”

 


	6. Consequence

The day had, if anything, grown darker.

The courtyard of the Undercity was not far from the old throne room where Arthas had slain his father, the last true King of Lordaeron. Usually it had its share of traffic coming and going but now it was bustling as rarely had been seen before.

On one side was arrayed a line of Forsaken from the rebelling garrison of the Bulwark, each watching with an unblinking stare. Identical in appearance and pose stood the soldiers of the Undercity facing them with only one exception. Marshal Bravar stood behind a shackled, downtrodden Jaina Proudmoore upon her knees, mage’s robes by now dirty almost beyond recognition.

The unholy green goo lent the ruins an unnatural lighting in the bleak afternoon. A fountain favoured the center of the duel zone, broken and dilapidated, a feeble vestige of humanity in what had once been one of the greatest bastions of its power.

Athelion’s second-in-command, a creature called Nereus, walked forward. Jaina watched from her vantage point as the Forsaken man stepped near the fountain to address both sides in a clear ringing voice.

“The matter is at hand. Athelion Dallbright has challenged Queen Sylvanas Windrunner in a rite of vengeance for the death of his father, Veryn Dallbright, former Lord Seneschal. May their grievances end here in the sight of all the Forsaken so we may address our greater foes without strife or division.”

Nereus paused and Jaina felt a flutter inside herself as she realized the duel was about to commence. One of the combatants would be dead shortly; she was almost certain Sylvanas would defeat her opponent…but the Banshee Queen’s own words from earlier still rang in her mind.

_Battle is never as simple as the strongest conquering the weakest._

“Let the challenger come forth.” Nereus’ words broke into her thoughts.

Through the outside entrance of the Undercity, Athelion Dallbright stepped forward briskly in an eerily similar walk to his father. The son of the former Lord Seneschal bore two daggers shining strangely in the green light, form sheathed in dark cloth that served to lend him a sinister appearance. Athelion took up a position before his own line of soldiers, standing tall and proud with a look of absolute resolve upon his face.

His eyes flickered along the line of the soldiers of the Undercity until he saw Jaina. At the sight his expression tightened before he turned away.

“Let the challenged party come forth.”

Sylvanas Windrunner stepped forward from the dark hallways that descended further into the Undercity. She strode lithely and easily across the plank bridge that spanned the green goo to take up a position in front of her own soldiers. The Banshee Queen bore her own two dark blades that Jaina had seen before, expression unreadable above all of her armoured glory.

The Dark Ranger struck a much more impressive and menacing figure than her opponent, as would be expected, but Jaina still found the fear growing within herself. Athelion deftly spun his daggers around himself in preparation, watching Sylvanas as the Dark Lady stood before him as if carved from stone.

“Will either party refuse the duel?”

“No.” Athelion’s voice rang throughout the courtyard, into the ears of those assembled…or at least those who still had them.

“No.” Sylvanas echoed the word, cloak stirring in a slight breeze, Elf-ears extending in thin strands from her cowl.

“Very well.” Nereus looked to one duelist and then the other. “Please stand together in the center.”

Jaina felt a jolt of concern as both Athelion and Sylvanas approached the middle fountain and pressed their backs against each other. If Athelion were less than honorable he could simply strike at Sylvanas while she was vulnerable.

Perhaps the rogue had more respect for Sylvanas’ skills. Or, more likely, he simply did not want to cause a bloodbath in the Undercity any more than the Banshee Queen did. Neither duelist attempted such an underhanded attack.

Nereus spoke again. “You shall walk ten paces apart. When the tenth is complete, you will turn and you fight. The duel is not ended until one party is dead.”

“One.”

Sylvanas stepped away from Athelion as the rogue mirrored the movement behind her.

“Two.”

The Banshee Queen took another brisk step forward, cloak fluttering anew in the movement.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

For these paces at least Sylvanas was facing the assembled ranks of her soldiers. Her appealing armoured form still excited Jaina, red eyes burning keenly from below the hood, blonde hair stirring.

“Six.”

“Seven.”

“Eight.”

Sylvanas looked pensive for a moment, as if considering some recent thought.

“Nine.”

The Dark Lady’s gaze flicked towards Jaina. From her submissive position the young sorceress raised her eyes and gave Sylvanas a faint, encouraging smile.

The Banshee Queen’s neutral expression broke slightly, the edges of her lips turning upwards.

“Ten.”

Both combatants whirled with astonishing reflexes. Jaina knew that both could throw their weapons with startling accuracy in an attempt to end the duel early. Neither chose to do so, instead charging at each other with their wickedly gleaming weapons brought to bear.

Sylvanas drove forward along the ground but Athelion decided to change his own angle of attack. He threw himself off both feet into the air, a leaping strike at his opponent with both daggers before him.

The Dark Lady of the Forsaken met the rush with both her own weapons upraised. There was a loud, keening sound as one dagger met the other. Sylvanas was lower though and Athelion bore down on the Banshee Queen, pushing her back along the ground in the shock of impact.

Athelion lashed out with a kick. Sylvanas dove away from it, breaking the contact of the blades and giving even more ground. They were well onto the loyalist side of battle now, the Dark Ranger whirling and retreating in a flash of her purple cloak.

There was no expression on Sylvanas' face but her glowing eyes studied Athelion carefully, weapons in a careful guard position. Athelion looked at the Banshee Queen and attacked again, a flurry of blows that she blocked with almost contemptuous ease.

Sylvanas went on the offensive afterward at last. The former Ranger-General of Silvermoon lashed out with her own lighting fast kick that connected with Athelion’s midsection.

There was obviously some sort of padding under that simple-looking black garb though, for the blow connected solidly but the rogue seemed largely unfazed.

Athelion kept his concentration as Sylvanas sought to follow up the advantage. The clash of metal heard again and again as the Banshee Queen hammered away at Athelion’s defenses. The rogue reeled, giving ground until a particularly quick blow sent him scrambling backwards, the Dark Ranger in hot pursuit.

“Your father was a brave man, Athelion,” Sylvanas commented as she followed her quarry, breaking the early silence of the duel. “I had no wish to kill him.”

“Yet you did.” Athelion turned to face the Banshee Queen, now back to the same point in the middle where moments before they had stood, back-to-back.

“He gave me no choice. Like you, he challenged me, and I struck him down.”

Athelion unleashed another flurry of blows. “He did what he thought best for the Forsaken. You and I both know why he acted. It was not to challenge you, but to address your dangerous, feeble affections.”

“I will not have my actions dictated to me by my servants.” Sylvanas had made a deft dodge to avoid Athelion’s latest attacks, sending an almost toying, lazy counterattack in return. The rogue deflected it easily.

“My father died for the realm. You killed him, now I will slay you for both vengeance and the future of Forsaken everywhere.” Athelion sent another kick forward, which Sylvanas again dodged nimbly.

“You really think so?” the Banshee Queen studied her opponent carefully. “You think the Forsaken will be better off without me? Who will lead us in my place? You?”

As if to emphasize her words she attacked with sudden speed, an onslaught that drove Athelion back again. “I am the only one who stands between our people and chaos, you stupid boy.” Sylvanas finally let some anger creep into her tone.

“You killed my father and now you want me to stand aside for the greater good?” Athelion’s tone had grown thicker with his own fury. “Even if I could somehow be convinced of that there's still the matter of your blonde whore. The mighty Banshee Queen, enthralled by the will of a feeble human woman. Tell me, how does it feel to fall so far so quickly?”

Sylvanas did not respond but the expression on her face was terrifying. She unleashed an angry, uncoordinated blow with one of her daggers, which Athelion avoided easily and struck with one of his own blades at her newly exposed face.

The Dark Ranger was not there to receive it, the rogue’s slash meeting only air. Suddenly the illusion of vulnerability became apparent to both observers and Athelion himself, but far too late to change the outcome. Sylvanas dove under the high dagger blow to drive one of her daggers into her opponent’s exposed stomach.

Athelion Dallbright stopped cold, staring downwards at the dark blade buried in his gut. Below him, coiled in a low combat stance, was Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen, with her second blade still in hand.

A darkness seemed to spread along Athelion’s form from the dagger sunk in to the hilt, unleashing a corruption which grew steadily outwards.

“You…you…” the rogue said uncomprehendingly, eyes wide and terrified, all his confidence suddenly gone.

“Spit it out, Athelion. I wouldn’t want to miss your final words.” Sylvanas studied him from her low position.

“You…bitch!” he finally finished, swinging forward with his left blade, a cruel blow meant to cleave deeply into the Banshee Queen’s head.

Sylvanas raised her remaining dagger upwards in an easy block, and saw above as Athelion’s other hand gave a twitch.

The blade went sailing from it with incredible speed behind the two duelists.

Even as Sylvanas was locked in the throes of mortal combat she cast a look to where the dagger had struck. The sight there broke the heart she didn’t even know she still had.

Jaina looked down to see the silver blade that had sprouted from her left breast. Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of red now spreading along the front of her mage robes and then the young sorceress keeled backwards.

The Banshee Queen saw that terrible sight and gave a horrific, bone-chilling shriek. She looked at Athelion’s face above her, smiling in vindictive triumph, and anger burgeoned inside her like she had rarely felt before. With her fury finally and utterly unleashed, Sylvanas swung her remaining weapon in a pair of vicious strikes so swift it looked like both of Athelion’s arms had simply fallen off his body.

Athelion Dallbright collapsed to his knees, armless and completely defenseless, eyes still triumphant even as his mortal coil began to fail him. He looked at the Banshee Queen above with bright eyes.

“For the Forsaken.”

Sylvanas did not respond except to swing her last weapon in a brutal horizontal slash. Athelion’s head parted from his shoulders to roll across the ground, his body collapsing listlessly.

Not a moment had passed before Sylvanas dove backwards towards her line of soldiers. Marshal Bravar was standing over Jaina but the Banshee Queen shouldered her subordinate out of the way with contemptuous ease.

“Jaina, Jaina…can you hear me.” Sylvanas sounded uncharacteristically vulnerable as she fell to her knees, supporting the failing body of her lover.

The young sorceress’ breath was labored, the hilt of Athelion’s blade embedded in her from the middle of a pool of blood. The Dark Ranger looked at the sight hopelessly with sadness and fear.

“Sylvanas.” Jaina managed a weak smile. “You won...I'm proud of you.”

“Jaina…please…don’t go,” Sylvanas said, and for the first time since she had lived, something that felt like tears welled at her eyes. “I need you now, more than ever.”

“I…” Jaina coughed, and blood suddenly marred those lovely pink lips. Sylvanas brought her head closer to the Archmage’s weakening body, cradling Jaina desperately.

“I could never truly leave you, Sylvanas.”

Jaina’s brilliant blue eyes met the burning red one last time, and then the sparkle of life went out of them. A final rattling breath escaped the young sorceress as she collapsed into Sylvanas’ arms and moved no more.

For long moments Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen, Dark Lady of the Forsaken, lingered near the ground, the body of Jaina Proudmoore limply in her arms.

Then Sylvanas screamed, a terrible sound borne of grief, hopelessness, and lost love. She screamed until her throat was hoarse, and then some more, the sound reverberating through the Undercity. It was a scream worthy of the Queen of the Banshees.

When it was over, Sylvanas looked down to Jaina’s form, beautiful even in death, blue eyes staring vacantly.

There was nothing left for her now, Sylvanas knew, delicately closing those blue eyes she had loved. There was no hope for anything good in the world. There was only death, waiting for one and all.

Sylvanas lifted Jaina into her arms, moisture covering her face. As the soldiers of the Forsaken watched from afar she carried the body of her lover back into the Undercity.

 


End file.
